Hiding in the Prison
by SleepingInThePrison
Summary: Kyra, rescued from the governor along with the others, has been taken under Daryl's wing. Only seventeen, he's nicknamed her kid, and they soon are friends. But after Daryl takes her on a raid go wrong, and comfort leads to a kiss, they have to keep their relationship a secret.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE  
I sit in my cell, putting on some old boots over my green jeans. I take a long time lacing them, my nervous fingers gently tugging on them. Feeling the dirt caked on from years of wearing them. I stood, rocking back and forth in the strange material.

Finally, I moved on to other things. I grabbed the thick leather jacket, one given to me not but a month ago. It was too big and I didn't like the way it restricted my movements, but Daryl insisted i wear it, at least until we got to the supermarket.

I took my hair back and braided it, letting the red-blonde hair fall down my back, pinning the loose hairs back so they wouldn't distract me.

I left the cell, ignoring the concerned looks from my fellow neighbors as i stepped outside, into the courtyard. My heart was beating faster with each step, my throat restricting as I thought of what I was going to do. I turned a corner and was met with everybody at the gates. Almost everyone was there, Michonne, Glenn, Maggie, Daryl, and a few newbies. Like me.

They were in a circle, whispering about something. I knew it was about me.

"She'll do fine!" I heard Daryl say.

"She's not ready, Daryl! What if someone gets hurt? She just lost her father!" Michonne tried to reason.

I cleared my throat, a few people turned to look at me.

"Uh, hey kid." Daryl said, straightening his back. He smiled half way.

Michonne flared her nostrils, nodding towards me. She positioned her sword, and got in one of the vehicles, a black jeep. She was pissed.

Glenn looked uneasy. "Hey, Kyra. We're just waiting on Rick and then we'll be off. He's just feeding the pigs."

I nodded, shielding the sun from my eyes. I walked over to Daryl.

"Where will I be riding?" I ask, looking up at him.

"You're gonna tag along with me." he answered, rumbling through his bag. He hesitated, then turned around, handing me a gun. "This is for emergencies only."

I took the gun, feeling the cool silver in the chilly weather, making me shiver. I hadn't touched a gun in months. I nodded and stuck it in my belt.

Finally, Rick walked up, nodding to Carl, who stood by the gates. He jumped in the same jeep Michonne was in, and Daryl and I were on his motorcycle. Carl opened the gates and I held my breath as we went past dozens of walkers, some slowly limping towards us, some their attention continued to the fence.

I pressed my face against Daryl's jacket, my heart bound to beat out of my chest.

As we drove, I thought of the first time I met Daryl. He was saving us, from the Governor. I didn't believe anything at first. How he had killed all those people... My dad. But, the shock wore off and I had to cope. The Walkers didn't get him. A human did. Right as I thought that was over.

There was no special importance of Daryl. Until some one told Rick that my Dad and I used to hunt. Then Daryl took me under his wing, taking me to target practices and showing me how to really track and kill.

He eventually convinced Rick to let me go on a supply raid. It's my first one and I just don't know what I'm going to do if anything bad happens. Like someone dies.

It took a while for him to convince them, seeing as how I'm so young. And yes, I am young. I'm only seventeen. But, somehow I'm on a motorcycle with Daryl, heading to a near by Piggly Wiggly, and about to throw up.

I'm an orphan. My mother died when this epidemic first broke out. She turned. My father, you already know his story.

We arrived at the supermarket, Daryl and Glenn instantly begin to kill some walkers, and Michonne quickly follows, Rick keeps me huddled by a car, until Michonne hollers that it's clear, and we crawl to the door way. Daryl beats on the glass and we wait.

"How you feeling so far?" he asked, sitting on a low window ledge. I shrugged.

"Nervous." I answered. He let out a short, low, breathy laugh.

"That happens every time, kid." he replied, his bow setting in his lap.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO  
Once the few dozen walkers were killed inside the store, we began getting stuff we needed. Everybody grabbed a shopping cart and separated except for Daryl and me.

We walked side by side, picking up canned goods and anything that didn't have an exoneration date. In the back, we found some seeds and loaded the buggy with them.

"Are cokes good until they're opened?" he asked, picking up a two liter.

I shrugged. "It's possible. Isn't like canned soups like that?" I asked, leaning over the buggy, shifting in the giant jacket.

"Eh. Maybe some of these kids should lay off the soda anyway." He said, putting it back down. I rolled my eyes and smiled.

We kept walking, hearing the footsteps of the others echoing in empty, sad store.

He picked up a case of beer, tore one out, and held it out to me.

"Want one, kid?" He asked, as I looked at it and crinkled my nose.

"No thanks. But maybe later." I laughed.

"Suit yourself." He said, pulling the little tab back and opening it. He took one long swig and we continued walking.

We were just picking up some formula and baby food when we heard a scream.

"Stay here." Daryl yelled, urgently. He took off, leaving me with a buggy and a gun.

I fingered the gun, backing into a corner, and waited. Footsteps.

Before I really knew what was happening the gun was in my hand, pointed at an aisle and a Walker was making it's way towards me. Followed by two more. I had cornered my self.

I fired, hitting the first Walker in the stomach, it hesitated, then continued. I squeaked, pulling the trigger again.

It his the Walker between the eyes, making it drop, now two more. I took them out after a few shots. I obviously needed some work.

I thought it was over, then two more came around the corner. Followed by more.

"Daryl!" I screamed, aiming and shooting. Hitting one. "Daryl!"

More were coming, pouring over the sides of the aisles. I felt tears of fear pricking my eyes, but I didn't dare let them reach the surface. I shot again, and again, but I was running out of ammo and more walkers were coming.

"Help!" I screamed again, feeling helpless.

I shot my last round, taking down only four more walkers. There were atleast six more and I had no where to run. The tears reached the surface. I grabbed a bottle of cheap wine and threw it. It hit one and busted, but it didn't affect it. Out of nothing but hope, I continued throwing them, it atleast slowed them down a little.

"Daryl!" I screamed again and again.

One was on top of me. Green skinned and ugly. It growled at me, clawing at me. The screams weren't going away now.

I managed to keep it's face away from me, but it wouldn't last long, another Walker pilled on top of him, crushing me to the ground. I sobbed hysterically, trying to fight them off.

I heard faster, louder footsteps and the sound of gunfire. Michonne was on top of me, pulling the Walker back and stabbing it.

She bent down beside me. "Are you ok? Were you bitten?"

I shook my head, curling in a ball. "No," I said through sobs.

"Daryl! Get her out of here." Rick said, his jaw quivering.

Daryl stepped through the little crowd. He picked me, cradling me.

"Shh.." He whispered, as he walked away. I leaned into him, grabbing his shirt, crying. I felt like a fool, humiliated. I had actually cried in front of Michonne.

We got on his motorcycle, and I held to him tightly, digging my hands and pressing face into something comforting. I tried to stop crying, but that jumping sensation of me almost dying hadn't quite worn off, and I sobbed, hoping Daryl couldn't hear me over the sound of the motorcycle and the wind.

We pulled up to the gates, and Carol was waiting there, a look of concern as she searched for the other vehicles. She opened the gates and we rode through.

"Where are the others?" She asked, worry clear on her face. "What happened?"

"Don't worry, they're fine. We were attacked." He helped me off the bike.

The sobs stopped, but I was still crying. I hadn't realized it until Daryl wiped a tear off my cheek, but I was.

"Oh, honey.." Carol, said, pulling me into a hug. She led me away from Daryl, away from the crowd watching me.

I was in my cell, asleep, before I knew it. Carol had given me some pill to calm my nerves, and then brought me to my cell.

I fell asleep out of exhaustion, my mind feeling about today. The others still hadn't come back, and I didn't know if anyone had died, but eventually, I drifted off.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE  
I was in the library in a corner, reading a book, when Daryl walked in.

"I figured you'd be in here." He said, pulling up a chair beside me. "They came back."

I put the book down, my head snapping up. "Are they ok?" I asked, sitting up.

He sighed, standing up and walking behind me. One of his hands were on my shoulder. "Two died."

I choked, my book falling to the floor. Two dead. Was it because of me? Because I couldn't defend myself? Because I was weak?

"They were surprised by some walkers in a meat fridge. Tyler and Ron. Are you ok?" He asked, both hands on my shoulders.

I was taking deep shaking breaths, trying to control my self, and failing miserably.

His arms were around me, comforting me. The tears hadn't surfaced yet. Not yet.

I stood, walking around the chair, and hugged him, he pulled me in tightly. His head on top of mine.

"I'm ok." I whispered against his chest. "I promise."

"I know." He said into my hair, one arm still tightly wrapped around me, the other in my hair.

I felt his lips on my hair. Confusion hit me, a sinking sensation in my gut. He was kissing the top of my head.

And then he was kissing me. In the back of the library, his hands were in my hair, his lips on mine, and we were kissing.

At first I just stood there, too shocked to really do anything. I couldn't believe he was kissing me, putting so much affection in to me.

And then my hands were around his neck, and I was pulling him into me, pressing my lips against his, feeling his breath on me.

I don't know if it was the shitty day, or if these were repressed feelings, but we were together, and it felt right. Like this should've happened forever ago.

His hands were under my shirt, feeling my skin, skin that had never been touched by anyone but me. His hands ran over my stomach, my back, my breasts.

Suddenly he was stepping back, into a book shelf. My eyes were wide, afraid of what he was going to say, maybe that it couldn't happen again.

"We.. We can't tell Carol." He says, leaving the room, and me, in silence.

I stare after him. Wondering if I should follow pursuit or let him go.

"There you are, Kyra!" I whip around to see Beth. "It's story time, are you coming?" She asked. I shook my head no.

"I'm not feeling well, Beth. Maybe tomorrow." I say, turning away from her.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Everyone has their own chores at the prison. Rick tends to the vegetables, Carol disperses the food, Beth is Judith's nanny, Michonne makes daily raids, Carl helps Rick, and everyone else just fits together.

I usually just help Daryl with his stuff, sense he's basically mentoring me, but today I stayed in my cell. I watched as everybody's shadows walked past my room, doing what they should. I stayed hidden, waiting.

I was patient, I made my bed, straightened what little space I had, and brushed out my hair.

Eventually, another shadow appeared in my doorway.

"Hey, kid." he said, walking through the door.

"Daryl," I stood up from my desk, "stop calling me that." I said walking up to him.

"Why?" He asked, his arms around my waist.

"Because, we've had sex six times. If you're still looking at me like a kid, we have some issues." I pout, my arms wrapping around his neck.

He smiled, "I'll put that on the no no list." he bent down, barely grazing my lips. "And it's been seven times."

My eyes brows rose in confusion. "No, it hasn't?"

"It will be." He grinned, and then we kissed.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE  
Three months had passed and a cold winter had set in at the prison. We were basically living off of canned foods now. Everything in the garden had withered up and died, not making but a few days in the winter.

Ever since the fence was almost over run a few weeks ago, there's been three daily patrols. A morning shift, a lunch shift, and an evening shift. You had to meet the quota of at least 30 walkers each.

They hoped this would help to make it so there were only three or four walkers a day we had to kill. So far, it was week two, and it felt like nothing had happened.

Daryl, Glenn, and I were on morning shift for the rest of the week. It was colder in the mornings, and I had three jackets on, along with my boots and two pairs of socks.

"My nuts are gonna freeze off." Daryl groaned, making Glenn and I laugh.

The laughs turned into fog has it hit the air, curling up and disappearing in the dark.

"The suns not even up, yet." I moaned, shining the flashlight in front of my feet.

Glenn chuckled, "You guys complain, so much. I had to get out of bed, next to Maggie!"

Daryl and I shared quick looks, both of us grinning.

"Wish I knew that pain, brother." Daryl joked, hitting Glenn on the back.

The fence was cold to the touch. I wasn't sure why the walkers just stood there, trying to get through. It was pointless.

At times like these, as I was plunging a knife on a stick into multiple dead peoples heads, I wondered if they thought.

They had to have some sort of weird life capability. They ate. Did they digest? Did thy prefer pig over cow? Did they know what they were doing? Was there any sense at all of themselves... Before?

I pondered on my questions, feeling confused and queasy. Were the people I was killing now, were they still there? Were they looking at me from behind the killers, from behind the walkers, and saying "Please. Please don't do this. I can come out. You just have to urge me. Please."

I threw my knife down, sitting on the pavement, I put my head in my hands, the need to throw up getting stronger.

"Kyra?" Glenn asked, turning from the fence. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I just feel extremely nauseous." I explained, taking deep breaths.

"If you need to go in, you-" he began, but I interrupted him, barely making it off the pavement into the grass, heaving.

Daryl's cool hands were on my shoulders, holding my hair back, whispering in my ear. Glenn's voice was faintly in the background, asking if he thought it was just what I ate or if I was coming down with something.

I leaned up, wiping my mouth, and leaned back into Daryl. I moaned slightly, holding my stomach.

"Glenn?" Daryl asked, brushing my hair out of my face.

"Kyra? Do you think you're ok now?" Glenn asked, putting his hand on my knee.

I nodded slowly. "I think I just got dizzy. I do that sometimes." I answered, standing up. Daryl helped me to my feet.

"You sure, kid?" He asked, I shot him look, but he dismissed it, concern on his face. "Maybe you should just go back to your cell. Glenn and I can finish. We only have a few more to go, anyway."

"Ok.." I looked at Glenn, asking his opinion.

"Yeah, just lay down for awhile, and if you're not feeling better soon, we'll get Hershel."

I nodded, grabbing my knife, and walked up the hill.

"Do you want someone to go with you?" Glenn asked.

"I don't want one of you to be alone out here. I'll be fine." I say, still walking.

"Then, we'll both go." Daryl argued, intent on not letting me go by myself. "What if you throw up again? You'd want someone to be there."

So, we walked back up there. And they're right, I did throw up again. Daryl held my hair back and comforted me, and Glenn asked all the questions, then we were in my cell.

I laid down and Glenn walked out, leaving Daryl and I.

"I'll come back and check on you after the shift." He whispered, kissing me on the forehead and walking out.

When he left, I unlaced my boots and changed out my socks for some thicker wool ones. I laid back down, covering myself up and wishing the next place we'd raid was a mattress store.

Daryl snuck in some time later, kicking off his shoes and sliding in next to me.

Since the bed was small, we had to shift around and eventually, we were comfortable. My head was on his chest, his arms around me.

"So, what was really wrong this morning?" He whispered, careful not to wake anyone else in the cell block.

"I overthink stuff." I whispered back, looking up at him. His eyes were closed, his head tilted back. He looked peaceful. It looked good on him.

"You overthink stuff? Like how?" He played with my hair, even though the water had been frozen up for two days and I hadn't been able to wash it.

"Like..." I shifted, reaching over and laced my fingers with his, "when I start killing the walkers, am I really killing them? Do they actually feel it? Are they scared? Is there some part of their old self looking at me, killing them, and are just helpless?"

I felt nauseous again, so I quit talking, waiting for his response.

He seemed to think for a little while, laying his head on top of mine and, with the hand that wasn't holding mine, he made circles on my back.

"I don't think they're there." Was all he said.

"So, you don't think there's a cure?"

"Nope. I think eventually, I'll die, either sickness, or getting bit in an accident, but it won't be from old age. and Rick will die, Glenn, Maggie... You. Nobody will survive this."

It gave me chills, knowing he had no hope at all.

"But, don't worry about it. Enjoy living for now. You never know when it's your last day. Now, go to sleep." He demanded, but sweetly.

So, I closed my eyes and attempted to go to sleep. When I woke up, I was alone.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX  
It was three days from Christmas, and there had been some talk about making a quick run to a store and getting some things for the kids. So, Rick called a meeting.

"Is it worth it? Is it worth losing somebody?" He asked, standing in the kitchen.

Some of us were sitting at the table, Michonne, Carol, Carl, Tyreese, Sasha, and I. Others were standing around the kitchen. Rick was standing in the middle of the room, Glenn and Maggie by the sink, and Daryl was leaned against the counters.

"It'll be quick," Sasha argued, holding a list of how many boys and how many girls there were, given to her by Carol. It was Sasha's idea to give the kids a Christmas. Give them hope. "We'll go in, grab a bunch of toys and coloring books, and we'll be right out. Ten minutes, tops."

"Ten minutes? Do you know how long it takes for walkers to surround and corner you? A few minutes. Ask Kyra!" Rick threw his hand towards me and I squeaked, feeling my cheeks flush.

"But, we're experienced! That was her first raid!" she retorted. That didn't help the color in my cheeks die down.

"So was Tyler!"

"But we'll be out in the open! Rick, please!" she begged.

"Fine." He gave in. "But only four people. Four. I have to fix those pipes today and I need some people to clear the fence. Understand?" Sasha smiled and nodded. "Good. Who's gonna be the four?"

"I will." Sasha stood.

"I'll go." Daryl sighed, looking at the ground.

"Count me in." Michonne volunteered, standing beside Sasha.

"I'll go." Glenn spoke up, being the last to volunteer. Maggie grabbed his arm, mouthing no. He didn't look at her.

"Great." Rick chimed. "Glenn, you're in charge. Be back by three." with that, he left the kitchen, obviously mad.

"When should we leave?" Glenn asked.

"Immediately. We need to be back in a hurry." Michonne answered him.

"Ok. Then that's settled. Everyone meet at the gates in five minutes."

Everyone started leaving, I hung back, grabbing Daryl's arm.

"Daryl!" I whispered.

"What?" He asked, surprised by my aggression.

"Please be careful. Please? Come back in one peace. And make sure everyone else does too. Please." I begged, hoping he wouldn't go.

He pulled me in a tight hug, and I hugged him back. Breathing in his comforting scent.

But it didn't last long and he was letting go of me, his hand on my face. He turned and left. Leaving me.

I stayed in the kitchen a few minutes longer, trying to regain my composure and tell myself everything would be ok.

I was leaned over the counter, taking deep breaths. And finally, I stood up straight and walked out, only to me greeted by Carol.

"Kyra! You scared me! I though you went back to your cell. Would you like to help make breakfast?" she asked, walking in to the kitchen.

"Sure.." I answered, following her. She opened a door that went outside and pulled out a bag. She unloaded it. Canned biscuits.

"Since we don't have a freezer, I thought this was the second best place." she smiled. I smiled back, helping her open the cans.

We worked in silence, only the popping of the cans and the sounds of our feet filled the room. We had opened maybe six cans when she finally spoke up.

"He's a good man." Carol said, laying thin biscuits down.

"Who?" I asked, absentmindedly.

"Daryl." My heart stopped. "Not many people would risk their lives to give some kids a Christmas. Especially since most of them had forgotten about it. Or have no hope of seeing one again. It'll be a nice surprise.

"They look up at Daryl anyway. They love him. Can you imagine their faces when he starts handing out stuff?" she smiled lovingly.

It was clear how she felt about Daryl. Even when she spoke about him, her eyes were filled with love. Guilt twisted my stomach into knots. My mind reeled back to the first time Daryl and I had kissed. How he had said "We can't tell Carol." Because he knew. He knew how she felt.

"Yeah, he's a good man." I lied.

Carol smiled, as we finished putting the last biscuits out. We put them over a brick oven, she found the matches and set the fire.

"With fire stoves, you never know when it'll be done." She said, sitting back. "So I just have to sit and watch. You can go back to your room and sleep if you'd like. I'll wake you when they're done." I smiled and got up, leaving her alone in the kitchen.

As I walked back to my cell, and climbed the stairs, I wondered if she somehow knew. I thought Daryl and I were being secretive, but she could've found out. Somehow.

By lunch Rick, Tyreese, and Carl had managed to finally unfreeze the pipes. So, the only chore left was to rid the fence of Walkers.

Maggie, Carl, and I were doing just that when the sound of cars were coming. We all ran to the gates, reaching them as two cars pulled up. Carl opened the gates and Maggie and I picked off the walkers that managed to get away from the traps.

Once we were inside, we surrounded the cars. I counted four people, and let out the breath I felt I was holding since they'd left.

Everyone got out, opening the trunks. The pulled out bags of toys.

"We're going to keep them hidden in the kitchen until Christmas," Glenn informed Maggie and I on our way to the prison. "So, Carl, you can't tell anyone." He smiled down at him. Carl grinned.

"I promise I won't."

I smiled over at Daryl, who just half smiled back, and then it was gone.

Later that day, I was in my cell, writing at my desk, when Daryl came in.

"Sorry I blew you off, I think Glenn may think something's up, so I thought it was best not to do anything." He said, sitting on my bed.

"Alright." I replied, turning me seat around. "You're forgiven." he smiled at me.

"What'd you do today?" he asked, pulling me out of the seat and into his lap.

"I helped with breakfast, I killed some walkers... Oh! Beth and I made some Christmas decorations out of some coffe filters." I grinned, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Sounds fun." he leaned in and gently kissed me. "I missed you."

"I missed you too."

hey! thanks for reading! If you could review, that'd be great! Any suggestions are helpful. Thanksxx


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN  
Christmas morning came, and after breakfast, everyone sat in the kitchen, stuffed to the brim. Most of the kids didn't even know what day it was, but a few sat close to the adults, their eyes shining with hope. It brought a new light in my eyes.

I looked over at Daryl, who actually seemed excited. He was by the pantry that we designated the toys to hide in. He was shifting from one foot to the other, not looking at anyone. But the smile on his face was inevitable.

I leaned against the counter and smiled at Beth.

"Do you think they caught on?" I asked, looking at the group.

"I'm not sure, but I think a few kids are hoping they get an extra biscuit or something." she laughed, leaning back.

We watched as Carol stood in front of everyone, announcing that today was Christmas and that meant presents.

"Now, they're not spectacular. But, we did the best we can." she said smiling, as a few parents and children sat in wonder, while other children were looking around for shining wrappers.

Daryl pulled out a plastic bag. He handed a doll to a little girl, a coloring book to a boy, along with a giant pack of crayons, a stuffed animal to a four year old boy, and one by one he made each kid feel special. They all looked at him as if he really was Santa.

I snorted, making Beth eye me. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing. It's just, these kids look at him like he's Jesus or something." I smile, turning around to look at her. "Or Santa. But that's the skinniest, scraggliest Santa I've seen ever."

We both laughed, enjoying everyone feeling happy. Some parents were shedding small tears, thanking Daryl over and over again. He would say to thank Michonne or Glenn or Sasha, but they never seemed to realize there was another hero.

After he handed out the presents, he walked over to Carol, and they leaned into each other, whispering.

I tried not to be jealous. He was probably just asking her about something, a schedule or something. I focused my attention on Beth, but I realized I was giggling too much and my tight smile was way too unnatural.

"Is everything ok?" Beth asked, a fragile smile placed on her face.

"Yeah. It's great." I replied my gaze darting back to Daryl and Carol just in time to see them hug.

Carol stood in front of everyone, getting everybody's attention.

"I hope everyone enjoys their gifts, and I would like it if we gave thanks to those who really deserve some credit. Four brave people went out and did this, just for smiles. And Sasha actually fought just so they could go. They really stuck their necks out." she smiled over at them. "So give a hand for Michonne, Glenn, Daryl, and Sasha."

Everybody clapped, including me, watching the kids already coloring and playing with their toys. The jealousy in me just dispersed, happy to see everyone smiling and laughing.

It's not that we're unhappy here. I love that I was rescued and that we have a place to call home. Everyone is. But it gets sad. We don't have simple medical supplies, and anytime we need it, we have to risk our lives getting it. Children are forced to grow up too soon. I had a great childhood, but now I would never be able to give my child that. It was enough to set a small depression in the prison. But, at times like these, I knew everyone felt hope.

Glenn sneaked some wine out and all the adults had some. Beth attempted to get some, but Hershel shooed her away, giving her a stern look. She came back empty handed and down.

I laughed at her pouting face. "Don't worry. I can sneak us some."

"Oh really?" she asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

"Really." I smiled, rocking off the counter and walking over to Glenn.

I handed him my cup.

"So, if you could turn this water into wine, I think we could call it a Christmas miracle." I smiled, tilting my head. I made sure that I didn't ask Daryl directly, but I made sure that whoever I asked was close enough to him that he'd hear me.

"Uh.. I don't know Kyra. Doesn't alcohol affect your brain if you drink it too young?" he asked, handing my cup back.

"Glenn! I'm almost eighteen. Besides, it affects your brain no matter what age. That's how so many people take ugly people home." I smirked, but no dice.

"Oh, just give the kid something to drink. She'll just sneak it later if you don't." Daryl spoke up, putting his hand on Glenn's shoulder. He shrugged.

"Fine.." he grabbed my cup, and walking over to the table, dumped the water in the drain and began filling it with the purple liquid.

"You know, I've never really liked wine." Daryl said, holding up his plastic cup. "It's alright, I just always preferred beer." He continued.

"But you still drink it?" I asked, tilting my head and looking up at him.

"Well, you don't see any beer around do you?" he asked, playfully.

"Mm. So, you may do the same with the women you sleep with?" I asked, a serious expression on my face.

"What? No!" he snorted, looking at me with his face contorted in confusion.

I laughed, patting his arm. "Ah! Thanks Glenn." I said, Glenn handing me the cup. I kissed his cheeked and waved bye to both guys, walking back to Beth.

"I got the booze!" I joked, filling half of it in her cup. "A small amount, but hey, whatcha gonna do?" I asked, tapping the brim of my cup with hers. "To not being eaten alive yet!" I yelled, faking being gallant.

Beth snorted, lifting her cup in the air, "And to not being on the road anymore!"


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT  
There wasn't enough wine to make anyone seriously drunk, but there were a few light weights who stumbled around the room, making lame jokes.

Beth and I slowly sipped our wine, people watching. It was one of my favorite things to do with my dad. We'd fine somebody, and try to think about what they were thinking and how their life was. What their occupation was, if they even had one.

It was fun, making up these peoples life stories. And now, with little to go on for these people, I imagined what their previous life was like.

Take Robert for example. He was a few years older than me, when we first met, the Governor had just recently brought together the little community.

He was well liked, as long as you didn't get to know him too well, like I did. I imagined in his previous life, he was probably a bible thumper. One of those people who you couldn't talk to without him telling you that you needed saving. And you're just sitting there like, I was saved when I was five!

It turned out I was wrong and he was a jerk who never talked about religion and was going to school to be a lawyer when the plague broke out.

So, sometimes I'm really spot on, or I'm a thousand miles in the other direction. That's what I loved about my game.

I explained the rules to Beth and we wondered about Carol. She was talking to Rick and another woman with dark skin and long straight hair.

"Hmm.. I bet she was a preschool teacher." I said, sitting up on the counter. Beth did the same.

"Nah. She worked for social services. She took kids out of bad homes." Beth guessed.

"Or she was a stay at home mom... Or a housewife. I don't know if she had any kids."

"She did." Beth answered, looking at me and frowned. "Her name was Sophia."

"What happened?" I asked, looking back at her, smiling. She didn't seem like she lost anyone. But, I guess we all lost people.

"Well, that's how I met her. They stumbled on our old farm looking for her. Well, really my uncle accidentally shot Carl, and Daddy had to save him and then I found out that they were out there looking for her daughter.

"They found her. Unfortunately she was turned. It was the saddest moment ever. I lost my mother and she lost her daughter that day.

"But, Daryl comforted her. It was really sweet. Even before, he risked his life searching for Sophia. It was like it was his own daughter out there. He did it because he couldn't stand seeing Carol like that, but he never told her that.

"After they found out Sophia was dead, he kind of just turned to stone. Like all that work was for nothing. He eventually warmed back up, but it was awful. Both him and Carol were torn apart." she looked at me, the frown plastered on her face.

"I didn't know that... That's awful. How old was Sophia?"

"I think she was eleven or twelve. Her and Carl were really close. It killed him too."

"I bet... She must be really something." I said, looking over at Carol.

That night, as people were getting ready for bed, Daryl and I sat in the library. I read silently, my feet propped up in his lap, as he rested his eyes.

"Did you see those kids today?" he asked, smiling.

"Yeah," I answered, setting my book down. "It was great. They love you."

He half grunted/ half laughed, making me slightly chuckle.

"Did you ever have kids?" I asked, looking at him. I tried people watching him. I couldn't really figure his past out.

"Nope." he finally answered after a little pause. "Never wanted any." he answered, avoiding my gaze.

"Beth told me about Sophia today." I said gently, hoping to not upset him.

"She wasn't my kid! Tell Beth she has her facts wrong." he dismissed me.

"I know. But I know you looked for her. A lot."

"I don't want to talk about." he replied gruffly. I slid my feet out of his lap, incase he stormed off. No need in my legs being the victim of his anger.

"Why did you kill yourself looking for her?" I knew that I was prying, but I felt like I had to.

He grunted and shuffled in his seat, "I said I didn't want to talk about it."

"Fine," I picked up my book, continuing to read, although I was pissed and kept reading the same line.

We sat in silence for a few more minutes, ignoring each other. We hadn't really had a fight, but would you even call this a relationship? We occasionally sneaked to see each other, and for whatever reason I thought he may like me.

But, we never talked. We never shared anything. The last time I could think about when we really talked about how we felt about stuff was when I threw up and told him about the walkers. And even then he had ended the conversation.

So, what was this? Was it a stress reliever? After a bad day, climb in bed with Kyra and have sex? That seemed to be the only intimate thing we ever actually did. And we didn't even do that very often anymore.

We'd been... I don't know what to call it so, whatever this is, we've been doing that for about four months. And he'd never said he loved me, or cared for me. Granted, I never pushed it. I was scared of pushing him away.

I'd never had a relationship before the plague. I kept to myself and was a bookworm. I had very few friends that I trusted, and even fewer that I liked. It's just how I was.

It made me even more confused. Was this how normal relations work? Well, I doubt this was very normal because of a) we're in a prison b) you never know when someone won't return c) he's quite older than me. I don't mean three or four years. I mean like, he could be my dad. I seriously think my dad was only a year or two older than Daryl.

"Did you have any brothers or sisters?" Daryl asked, making me look up from my book I hadn't been reading.

"Uh, I did. But he died when he was three months old." I answered, looking down at my book.

"I did," Daryl began. "You know him. He helped the Governor out. His name was Merle."

"Merle was your brother?" I asked in disbelief. Merle was an ass, an arrogant jerk who's main priority was Merle.

"Yeah. Governor killed him. I found 'em, I was trying to save him. But I found him as a zombie. He was eating a squirrel."

"What'd you do?" I asked, thinking I wouldn't be able to kill my own brother.

"I killed him. Simple as that. Moral of the story is, I don't really have those feeling I had to save Sophia, anymore. Too much shit has gone down, too many people have died, and I'm tired of always being the one to be disappointed when I find them dead. So forgive me if I don't want to sit around a campfire and talk about my feelings. You're not a therapist. So don't try to be."

He was hurtful, harsh. I don't know if he meant to be or he was feeling sorrow for his brother, but I had a sinking feeling in my gut.

"I wasn't trying to be your therapist, Daryl. I was trying to get you to talk, seeing as how you shut me out for anything except for sex. So, I'm very sorry for being confused on whatever the hell this is, but I won't make the mistake again. But, hey! If you actually know what this is, feel  
free to tell me, because I'm in the dark!"

I was standing. Yelling the last sentence. I stared at him, waiting for him to say something, and when he didn't, I walked out of the library.

I was surprisingly calm. I guess because I was wanting to find out what our relationship meant, and I finally did. Nothing. It was meaningless. It was occasional sex, occasional kissing, and every now and then we may pretend we care. But that was it. It was meaningless.

When I went back to my cell, I shoved my boots off and, without changing into pajamas, I dug myself into my blankets.

I want to be like Beth. She never cries. She's tired of crying. And I always feel vulnerable. She's strong and I'm not.

But, tonight I promised to not cry. Because death and murder was something to cry about. Stupid relationships were not.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE  
Daryl and I didn't speak for the next few days. We avoided each other during chore time, we didn't talk on fence patrol, and there were no more late night visits to the library. If I wanted to read something, I brought it back to my cell to make sure he couldn't find me there.

I suppose at any time he could've just walked into my room, but I think we were just giving each other space. Figure out what this thing was.

Instead of helping Daryl hunt and plan raids, I began helping Beth with Judith.

I really wanted to have kids when I was younger. Cute chunky babies, just like Judith. But, I would never have them now. I could never bring a baby into this world, knowing there was no hope it could live and be happy through it.

So, instead, I dealt with playing with Judith and keeping her happy. Beth and I would play with her, sing to her, rock her. It was a one person job, but Beth didn't mind letting me help.

"I just think she's precious." Beth said one day, as we were sitting in the library.

"I know. I really wanted kids before the plague." I told her, watching her play on a blanket with a tiny baby doll.

"I still do. I didn't know for sure after we had to leave the farm. But, I am sure now. If Judith can be this happy, so can my baby."

I nodded, although I disagreed. "I suppose."

"I already had baby names picked out. I wanted two boys and a girl. Ashton, Judah, and Leigh."

"Those are really pretty names," I smiled at her.

"Thanks. Did you have any?"

"I always wanted a boy. I had a lot of names lined up; Matthew, August, Louis, Link.. If it happened to be a girl I wanted to name her Darlene."

"I like Link and Darlene." Beth smiled, picking up Judith, who began getting fussy.

Beth rocked her as I fixed her formula, then handed it over to Beth, who fed her.

"What did you want to grow up to be, before all this?" Beth asked.

"I wanted to be either a game warden or a pediatric doctor. I was actually online looking up different programs when I saw my first Walker." I confided. "What about you?"

"I wanted to be a teacher. I loved spending time with kids, so I would defiantly be a preschool to second grade teacher. When they're still cute."

I smiled, standing up. I walked over to one of the windows and saw that three people were on patrol duty.

"I guess it's lunch time." I told her, watching the people.

"Is someone on patrol?"

"Yeah, three other people. There's a lot more walkers out there today."

"Who's out there?" she asked, standing up with Judith in her arms.

"I can't tell, two women and a guy though." she looked out.

"I think Carol, Sasha, and Tyreese have lunch shift." she backed away from the window.

"Huh. I thought Tyreese didn't like to kill them."

"He doesn't. But he also doesn't want to do anything else." she laughed, sitting back down.

I smiled slightly. "I suppose."


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN  
It was snowing. When everyone woke up, snow was covering the ground, and was still going. Children were begging their moms and dads, or Carol in special cases, to go outside. So, as long as they didn't go to the fence, they bundled up and waddled outside.

I put on two pairs of socks, my boots, a hoodie, and the leather jacket, and walked out side. I watched the kids make snow angels and have snowball fights.

"Kyra!" Mika, a younger girl who's dad died a few months ago, yelled, hitting me in the chest with a snowball, "Come play with us!"

I smiled walking over and building a ball of snow. "What do you say we make a snow man?" She grinned, nodding.

So, I assigned the kids jobs. Some went to get the best looking arm sticks, some went to get rocks for the eyes nose and mouth, and some helped make the body.

I taught them how to roll a ball until it was big enough. "You have to have three. The one on the bottom has to be bigger than the one on top of it and the one on top of it has to be smaller. Get it?" I asked, watching them nod. Carl helped me get the parts on top of one another, they were bigger than I expected the kids to do.

The kids came back with sticks and rocks and we made it's face and arms.

"Now, let's give it a name!" I told them, huddled around the snowman.

"Snowly!" Mika suggested.

"I like snow flake, better," Tyler, a little boy, argued.

"Frosty." Another girl argued.

"How about, you guys go ask Daryl which one he likes better?" I asked, Daryl just now walking out.

They all ran over there, pulling on his jacket and yelling.

I laughed, standing up and wiping my hands off.

Mika ran back, "He says Snowly is a great name!" she smiled, I grinned back.

"There it is, then!" I wrote Snowly across his stomach with my finger. She grinned and ran off to play with the other kids.

I made sure that there was enough people out to watch the kids and I went back inside, Carol offering me a cup of hot water. I smiled and thanked her for it, and continued on my path, sipping on the water.

When I was younger, we had hot chocolate when we came in. I guess water was all the we had. It still felt good after freezing my butt off.

Everyone was outside, except for a few people, and as I walked into my room, I felt someone touch my shoulder.

I whirled around to see Daryl standing in my door way, well cell way I suppose.

"Can we talk?" he asked, leaning against the frame.

"Sure." I sat on my bed, and he walked in, sitting at my desk chair.

"So, what are we talking about?" I asked, not looking at him. I felt like a little kid getting in trouble.

He crossed his arms, and with pursed lips, he just looked at me. It felt weird, but at the same time I sorta missed him being in a confined space with me. But, I had to remember this was serious. And I couldn't jump all over him.

"Are we gonna talk, or are we gonna look at each other?" I asked. Although he looked really hot like that. I would personally never tell him that. But he did.

"I'm the only one looking. You haven't looked at me the first time."

"Because you're staring at me like I'm a little kid. Which I'm sick of, by the way," I finally looked up at him, looking him right in the eyes.

I felt brave, and maybe I even looked brave, but I could feel my cheeks turn red, and it took a lot of courage to face him. Why did I always feel like this with him? Like he was superior?

"Listen, kid- um, Kyra, I.. I'm sorry. For what I said in the library the other night. I'm just as in the dark with this relationship as you are. So, let's talk about it."

"How about we talk about you and Carol?" I asked, standing up and peeking out the curtain of my room.

"What about her?" he asked, eying me.

"Well, you guys are awful friendly. Although, I'm not sure if I'm in the position to be jealous or not. But I am.

"And, I know she care for you. A lot. The question here that I need the answer to is: Do you care for her?"

"Of course I do. But not like that. I know she does, but you have to understand that she comes from a really bad place." he stood up and walked over to me.

He place his hand behind me on the wall, cornering me. His hand lifted my chin up.

"I do, however, care about you," he leaned down to kiss me, and I ducked, dodging his kiss. His eyebrows raised and nodded.

"I get it, you're pissed." he backed up, smiling.

"It's not that I'm pissed Daryl, it's that we need to talk. And you use sex to escape talking. Quit!" I threw my hands up, and sat down, putting my head in my hands.

"Why are you so content on not sharing feelings? It doesn't have to be feelings, just talk to me! We used to talk, but ever since that kiss, we don't."

"Kyra, I'm sorry. Really, I am. It's just, I don't know how. Actions speak louder than words, thing. I don't deal well with losing people, so I don't like thinking about it. I'm sorry."

He didn't say much, but it was a lot at the same time.

"Ok... But we're going to make a deal." I told him, hoping he'd compromise.

He smiled, walking towards me again. "Go ahead."

"You have to start telling me stuff, and I know you're not big on talking or whatever, but I want to hear about your child hood and life with Merle. I want you to open up."

He nodded, "I can attempt it."

"Good. 'Cause I also want the full story on Sophia." I smiled, as he simultaneously groaned.

-  
Hey! So, I'm gonna start posting one chapter a day. Maybe two if I can get around to it. Thanks for reading everyone! Happy tenth chapter! Xx (don't forget to review)


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN  
Once again, we were in the library, deciding to meet her every now and then to just talk. Strictly just talking. I was sitting on the table when he came in, walking over and kissed me.

I probably let the kiss last longer than should have, but eventually I found the will to remove my hands from his hair and stop the kiss.

"So, tell me about Sophia. Why'd you go crazy?" I asked bluntly.

"Do we really have to talk about her?" he asked, pouting.

"Yes! I need to know!"

"Why does it matter? You never met her! You said we had to talk, you didn't say it had to be about her. We can talk about Merle, or my dad, or anything besides her!"

"Please, Daryl! You promised!" I grabbed his hands, curling my fingers over his and pouting.

"No!" he shouted like a little kid, jerking his hands back.

"Daryl Dixon, you promised me that you would talk about her, now talk!" I shouted back.

"Kyra, I'm not going to talk about her."

"Whatever, Daryl. Don't pull that shit on me. You promised you'd talk, asshole."

"Fine!" he jumped from his seat, "Wanna know why I cared for her so much? 'Cause she came from a shitty home, that's why! Do you know how many times I pulled that piece of shit she had to call dad off of her or off of Carol? Too many! So, when that asshole died and I got to keep her away from him I thought I finally saved her! But no! Not a few weeks later she gets lost and I don't know what to do, Kyra! So, I search for her! I think, she actually lasted twelve fucking years with her dad, surely she can hold out for just a few days! Then I can save her again. You know?"

He was crying. And I found myself wiping tears away.

"Daryl-" I began, but he interrupted me.

"No, you wanted to know, let me tell. So I search for her, I literally almost died! I was thrown off a horse, shot, I fell over a bluff, and I didn't let it stop me! Then one day," he wiped tears away, and I reached for him, he backed away. "one day, Shane opened up the barn full of walkers and out pours all these meaningless dead people, and then... And then Sophia comes out, and she's growling. And I think why? Why would this happen? Why couldn't I have found her, or Carl, or Rick. But no. We had to find her dead."

He sat in his chair, defeated looking. He covered his face with his hands, and it was the first time I'd seen him cry.

I walked behind him, wrapping my arms around him. "I'm sorry," I whispered, kissing the top of his head.

"For what?" He asked, hands still covering his face.

"For Sophia. I'm not sorry that I made you tell me. But I really am sorry about her. You must've really cared about her. I wish I could've met her."

He sniffed, taking his hands away from his face.

"God, I feel like a puss."

I grimaced. Leave it to Daryl. Take a sweet, intimate moment and make you want to vomit.

"Ok, Daryl, you're not a... Ugh, I hate that word, but you're not. It shows you don't have a heart of stone. Maybe one day, you'll care about someone else like that."

I let him go, walking over, I sat on the table facing him.

"Like you?" he asked, still sniffing.

"No!" I crinkled my nose, "God! Daryl! I meant as a father figure. I swear.." I shook my head, laughing slightly.

His eyebrows raised and he shrugged, smirking. He stood, walking over to me. He put his hands on the table, his face inches from mine.

"So? Do I get a reward for being a pansy in front of you?" he asked, leaning in.

I snorted, making him grimace. "Once you get that snot off your face, maybe," I kissed him on his cheek, carefully avoiding his nose, and walked to the door way.

"But after," I said, stopping and turning to look at him, "I may get cold in my cell."

the next chapters coming soon! Thanks lovies for reading! xx


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE  
I sat in my room, staring at the box of pads Michonne had just given me. She went on a raid and brought back some lady stuff for the women.

I looked at the calendar. I was a week late. A week. I'm always on time. I mean, spot on. I start noon and everything.

I pushed my hand to my stomach, wondering about the possibilities. Could there be a fetus in there? If there was, did I want the fetus?

I wondered how far along I may be, how much I'd snuck and drank with Beth. Could you damage a baby that early?

I wouldn't be able to hide it for long, my shirts were already getting a little snug. What would I tell everyone? Would I just let them figure it out on their own?

Oh dear, goodness, how am I going to tell Daryl that I'm pregnant?

I take deep breaths, calming myself down. I may not even be pregnant. I could just be oddly late.

But Lord! If I am? Daryl told me just the other day he never wanted kids! Still doesn't!

I laid my head in my hands, taking really deep breaths now. Was I hyperventilating?

I couldn't ask Michonne for help. She'd tell Rick, and lord knows what he'll do. Not to mention I don't want to tell Daryl unless I know for sure that I am or not.

But how do I tell!? I knew nothing about pregnancies except you get fat, you crave food, and labor sucks.

If I was pregnant, could I still have sex? Daryl might find it a bit odd if I suddenly didn't want to.

I threw the box under my desk, hating it for being existent during an apocalypse.

Since the library was a prison library, I wasn't sure if they'd have any books on pregnancies. But, I got up, deciding to look anyway.

I scanned the library, not even sure of what to look under. I tried looking for books where women are pregnant, or science-y books, or just plain pregnancy stuff. But no luck. I spent an hour checking the shelves, pulling books out, and holding back tears.

After all, I may get my period soon, anyway. But, until then, I'll give it a month before I tell him. Or anyone.

So, that evening Beth and I played with Judith, making her chunky little arms do different 80's dance moves and making her laugh.

The weight of playing with her was enough to make me crack. I pondered on telling Beth, seeing as how in nine months Judith may have a play mate, but, I wasn't sure. She may run straight to Rick and tell him.

But I had to tell someone. And it couldn't be Daryl, because he would flip out, and it may be a false alarm.

I took a deep breath and put Judith down.

"Beth, can I tell you something?" I asked, feeling sick.

"Sure! What is it?" she asked, putting little booties on Judith.

"It's serious. Like, you can't tell anyone. Not Rick, or Hershel, or Carol. No one."

She sensed the seriousness, turning from Judith.

"Ok.. I won't."

I was shaking, feeling like backing down and telling her that I preferred tampons over pads, but I took a deep breath, and let my secret spill.

"I'm late." I whispered, taking a lot of courage to get just two little words.

"For..?" she asked, head tilted, giving me a curious look.

"My period."

"Oh!" she let out a breathy laugh. "Kyra, you may just be irregular."

"No, Beth. I've never been late. Ever since I was twelve I've had my period on a regular basis. I'm late. Bad." I pushed my hair out of my eyes, tears brewing.

"So, are you going to be the next Virgin Mary or is there some guy you've been keeping a secret?" She asked, lips pursed.

"The second option?"

"Oh my god, Kyra! Who is it?" she demanded, grabbing my shoulders.

"I can't tell, not yet." I told her, not even sure if it was a not yet or a not ever.

"Have you told him?"

"No... I don't want to until I'm completely sure that I'm pregnant. Or not pregnant."

She nodded, sitting back in her chair.

"Why can't you tell me who it is?" She asked, looking like a puppy that's been kicked too many times.

"Because.. It's hard to explain." I tried to tell her.

"Ohmygod, is he married?!" she yelled accusingly.

"No! Beth! He's very very single. Well, I think. I'm not sure where our relationship stands."

"You mean he got you knocked up and you're not even sure if you're really together!? Who is this ass?"

"Beth... I can't."

"Is he older than you?" She asked, squinting her eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Like, three years?"

"No."

"Younger or older?" she asked, looking like a junior detective.

"Older." I felt like I was in one of those movies where you're under a lamp and get slapped for telling a lie.

"Hmm.. Is he like a lot older?" she asked.

"Um.. Yeah."

"Kyra! You're underage! What if Rick finds out?"

"He won't." I replied confidently.

"He will if you sprout a baby bump!" she argued.

I shrugged. "He doesn't have to know who it is. As long as he's protected."

"Kyra, I think you should tell someone. Especially if you might be preggers."

"I'm afraid! What if they over react?"

"I don't know. Rick seems pretty calm... Oh god. Is it Rick?"

I laughed, rolling my eyes. "No, Beth. It's not Rick."

"Thank goodness." she breathed a sigh of relief. "Wait, is he older?"

I looked at the floor, ignoring her question. I picked up Judith, kissing her little fists.

"Kyra..." she said uneasily, head tilted and one eyebrow raised, "he's older than Rick?"

"I don't need to give you anymore hints." I replied, hoping she would buy it.

"Ok... But I really think you should tell whoever it is. I also wish you would tell me who it is. It doesn't look like either one of those options are going to happen but, whatever." she grinned sarcastically.

I smiled sweetly back, blowing her a kiss. She caught it, falling over dramatically. We both laughed, avoiding the other subject at hand.

That night, while Daryl and I whispered in my cell, I found it hard to concentrate on what he was saying. Every time his hands grazed my stomach, I wondered if it was there. The fetus. It was killing me, not knowing.

I wish I could jus ask Michonne to get me a pregnancy test. She goes out nearly everyday and it wouldn't be that hard for her to grab one off the shelf. But, she would for sure tell Rick. And who the hell knows how that will spiral out.

"Are you alright?" he whispered, his mouth by my ear.

"Perfect," I whispered back, "I'm just not feeling well."

"Alright. I have to leave to do morning patrol, so I probably won't be here when you wake up."

I nodded, stretching my neck and pecking him on the lips.

"Goodnight," I whispered, "don't let the walkers bight."

Although he snorted, he came back with, "That's not funny."

"Sure. You laughed though, sweet heart."

"Oh, we have pet names now?" he asked, pulling my hair back from my neck.

I rolled around, slightly difficult in the cramped space, and faced him. In the dark, I could barely make out his face, but he was smiling.

I put my hand on his chest, leaned up, and bit his neck.

"I'm conflicted," he whispered, voice husky, and looking down at me.

"How so?" I asked against his ear.

"It's kind of freaky that you're biting me, due to what's happening outside, and at the same time it's hot as hell."

So, I did what any woman in my position would do upon hearing those words, I did it again.

I nibbled and kissed his neck, making a line up and across his jaw bone, and finally planted a kiss on his lips.

But, still afraid of having sex while pregnant, that's all he got, and I rolled back around, leaning the back of my head against his chest.

"Teaser," he growled in my ear, wrapping his arms around me.

It would have been the perfect moment to say the big words. The words I've been waiting for since month two, seeing as how we were on month five now.

But, I don't think either one of us wanted to become attached. Bad things happens when you fall in love. You hurt and you cry. You lose and sometimes people die.

Is it worth it? That was the major question for me. And I wondered if it was for him. We both needed to decide, soon. And even sooner if the fetus is really there.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN  
I felt like I was getting fatter. But it had been a week since I thought I might be pregnant, so I figured it was just psychological crap. People didn't get big that quick, right?

No way, I thought as I climbed out of bed, Daryl beside me. He was still asleep, enjoying having evening patrol this week. Although, it meant that we had to cut out some us time. Not that he cared. He hated talking about Merle and his father.

And the more he talked, the more I realized why he probably felt such a connection with Sophia. They both came from a shitty home. His dad sucked, Merle was almost as bad as his dad, and his mom was a bystander. Like Carol.

Although he didn't talk about his mom much. I just sort of pieced that together. For all I know, she was the abuser.

But, he was mentally and physically scared from his childhood. And I hated anyone who caused his pain.

My morning routine was a bit different this time. I normally get up, get dressed, and help out with daily chores.

Today, I sat down, in my shirt and boxers, at my desk, took out a piece of paper and a pencil, and sketched out Daryl's peaceful face.

I couldn't help it. I drew a lot of stuff before the plague, and I tried to not let that render me now.

After I got the base down, I drew his hair, how part of it stuck up and others were flat against his head. I drew how his cheek was squashed against the pillow and his mouth was half open. I drew the small curve of his nose and his thin lips, I drew his needed-to-be-groomed beard, and his funny, thin eyebrows. But then, he'd move positions and I'd start all over again.

This time I drew the side of his face, his thin cheek bones, the puffiness around his eyes, how they always are in the mornings, and then I moved on from his face, drawing his neck and shoulders, then to his chest. I drew the tattoo that was exposed through the covers, thin cursive letters, and the curve of his shoulder, the hollow of his neck, the muscles in his exposed bicep.

I closed the book, and put it back in my drawer. I began getting dressed, quietly slipping on a pair of worn out jeans, a green T-shirt, under a gray old sweatshirt someone had donated in one of those bens and Michonne picked it up, thinking we could use the extra clothes. It was first come, first served. I decided to leave my hair down, the natural waves seemed pretty enough. Although that was one of the last things I worried about.

Finally, I put on the same boots I put on everyday. I laced them, loving the feel of the dirt and memories, and stood up.

I felt my stomach. Nothing. Was I pregnant? I probably wouldn't feel anything until I was big.

I hated to do it, but I was going to have to wake up Daryl. People couldn't just watch him walk out of my cell, half naked, and not ask questions. Nobody was up yet, except for the very few early risers who would normally go to the library. And I figured if he got caught, he could just say he was sleep walking or something. Maybe they'd buy it.

I slowly shook him, watching one eye flutter open, then close just as close. So, I shook him again, a bit harder.

"What?" he asked, a bit loudly.

"Shh. Daryl, wake up. You need to go to your room before it gets too late."

"Too late for what?" he asked, just as loudly.

"Shh!" I whispered harshly, flicking him on the shoulder.

"Ow!" he whispered. "What the hell was that for?"

"You wouldn't shut up!" I gave him a look, tugging on his arm. "Now, go on. You need to go to your room before everyone starts waking up."

He rolled his eyes, rubbing his face. "I thought I'd get to sleep in today?"

"You can, as soon as you get back to your cell." I said, throwing him his shirt.

"That's an entire cell block away." he complained, still laying there.

I threw a his jeans, hitting him in the face. He shot me a look, and then shivered violently.

"Damn, when'd it get so cold?"

"It's always been cold, we've just always been... Keeping each other warm." I flashed him a quick smile, and he returned the favor.

He sat up in the bed, pulling jeans on and his shirt. "I'm not putting those shoes on. I'm just going back to sleep when I get to my cell."

"I don't blame you. But at least put socks on?" I asked, sitting beside him.

"Will do. It's freezing," he commented while putting them on.

We sat in silence for a little bit while he pulled his jacket on over his shirt. He stood up, peaking out the curtain.

"It's clear. I'll see you later," he waved bye, and then he was gone.

I stared after him in shock. We'd been seeing each other for months, and all I got was a wave? No kiss or hug or 'I'll miss you'. Just 'see you later' and a lame wave.

I shrugged, figuring that was just Daryl.

I went back to sleep, not having to wake up for another few hours. I wished he was still there so I wasn't so cold. Although we were normally half naked (or completely naked), but it was a small space and he oddly enough liked to cuddle. So, I was always pretty warm.

When I woke up, the cell was busy with people moving around, getting ready. So, I did the same. I was already dressed from earlier and brushed my hair and left.

Everyone was already hustling to get their breakfast, then start their day. So, I joined in. Following in line as we got a cup of soup. That was more like hot water with chopped up carrots, but everyone ate it anyway.

Daryl sat across the room from me, not looking at me once, and I tried to keep my gaze from him as well. No need in Beth finding out who I was seeing. She was already sitting by me, looking for people.

"I give up," she whispered, so no one could over hear.

"Good," I whispered back, smiling while looking at my soup.

We finished and brought our bowls to the sink, the same time Daryl was.

We set ours down on the counter, and in the midst of me trying to avoid contact with him, I ran right into him, knocking myself down.

I looked up too Daryl smiling and Beth holding in a giggle, her face turning red. Daryl held his hand out, and I took it, pulling me up to my feet.

"Careful there, kid. Don't want to hurt yourself," he squeezed my shoulder and kept walking, not seeing the look I have him for calling me kid.

"Well, lucky you," Beth joked, grabbing my arm and guiding me out of the kitchen. "It's not everyday you get to hold Daryl Dixon's hand." she nudged me, winking.

I smiled, "Yeah, I guess I am lucky."

I wondered why Beth would never guess Daryl. Maybe because we seemed so far off. Or maybe she thought him and Carol were together. Or, since Daryl had been mentoring me, she just assumed that we were strictly friends.

Either way, I was glad she didn't think it was him. That would keep me from having to lie anymore to her.

We continued on our day, cleaning the showers, watching Judith, straightening the library, sweeping four cell blocks, and asking Carol if she needed any help with laundry. When she dismissed us, Beth went off to play with Judith, and I went out side to see if Daryl could use any help.

I found him just as he was about to go outside the fence.

"Daryl!" I yelled, jogging over to him.

"Hey, kid," I shot him a look,"what do you need?"

"I'm done with chores, just wondering if you could use any help?" I asked, feeling slightly awkward.

He looked at me for a few seconds before answering.

"I'm cutting wood. I guess I could use a look out."

I smiled, nodding slightly. He nodded towards Glenn and Maggie, who began beating on the fence, distracting the walkers, and then to Carl, who opened the fence.

We ran down the road, not seeming to catch the attention of any walkers, and disappeared into the woods. Daryl instantly began shooting a few walkers, and I took out the knife I always keep in my belt loop (after running out of ammo at Piggly Wiggly, I figured I deserved a back up plan.) and began plunging it in a few Walker heads.

We cleared a little path, but there were many many more coming in. Daryl took out his axe from his belt, and handed me his beloved cross bow.

"Ricks coming in thirty minutes with a truck. Let's have a good pile ready before he gets here. Use your knife for the stray walkers and only use the bow if it comes down to it. I'm serious." he raised his eye brows, gave a worried look to his bow, and began chopping off low limbs, throwing them in a pile.

The chopping was louder than I expected and quite a few walkers found their way to us. I tired to not use the bow that was slung on my back as long as I could.

"For Christ's sake, Kyra, use the bow!" He yelled, hitting one of the walkers in the head with his axe.

I shrugged it off my shoulder and after a small struggle, shot. It hit a walker in between the eyes, making it drop. I continued, getting faster at putting the arrows in place.

Eventually, the little herd was reduced to one or two every now and then, and I replaced the bow back on my shoulder, going around and picking up arrows out of the walkers heads.

Eventually, Rick came with the truck and we quickly loaded the wood in the back. Daryl and I sat in the bed of the truck, he tapped on the side and Rick pulled out, heading back towards the prison.

"You did good," Daryl said over the loud truck.

"At what?" I asked.

"Well, not looking suspicious this morning, and you kick ass with a bow." I blushed, not saying anything.

Daryl whispered as we pulled up to the gate, "How about we sneak off to your cell after we unload this wood?"

I smiled and nodded. I'm pretty sure my cheeks were the color of the now setting sun, because we just didn't talk like this out in the open. It felt like we were actually free.

But, the truck stopped running, Rick came around the side, and we were just friends again.

I was glad I could blame the redness of my cheeks on the cold weather, or else we probably would've been caught right then.

Taking the wood to the different cell blocks was torture. Having to wait forever and not he giddy was really hard. At this point, I still wasn't sure if sex could damage the maybe-there-fetus, but I also had a suspicion that horny husbands didn't wait nine months, either.

Daryl and I finally snuck off, everyone still getting the last bit of their chores done, or heading to wait on dinner, I was able to hold his hand as I led him to my cell.

I slipped through the curtain and gasped.

"Carol!" I yelped, surprised to see her bent over my desk. I pushed Daryl out of the room just as she turned around.

Hmm... (:


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"Carol!" I yelped, surprised to see her bent over my desk. I pushed Daryl out of the room just as she turned around.

"Oh, hey, Kyra!" she smiled politely, and I wasn't sure what was going on. "I just finished cell block C's laundry. I was dropping yours off."

"You don't normally drop people's laundry off, do you?" I asked, sweating a bit. The buzz I had from Daryl's little plan was now gone. Like miles away gone. We almost got caught.

"Well, not normally. But, I seen you helping Daryl and I thought you might be tired, so I hand delivered it." she just stood there by my desk, smiling awkwardly. I wasn't sure what to say, so after a few extremely weird moments, I just said the first thing that came to mind.

"Thanks..." Some more silent moments.

"Well, I have to take a shower and get ready for bed. I'll see you around, Kyra. Oh, have you seen Daryl?" she asked, turning around at the last moment.

"Uh, no. Not since we unloaded the wood. I think he went to his cell." I lied, hoping she couldn't detect it.

"Really? Alright then." then she was gone.

I sat on my bed, my heart beating so hard and fast that I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. He was in the middle of untucking my shirt and then we walk in on Carol snooping through my stuff!

Oh, my god. My sketches! I jumped up, jerking open my drawer. Nothing. The entire book was missing. Had she actually seen the sketches yet? There were so many. Too many. After the first time I drew him, things just got out of control. Every time I woke before he did, I drew him. Some girls wrote in diaries, I drew.

And now Carol had them. And Lord knows what she'd do with them. Actually, I already knew. Well, the worst fears I could think of. She'd look at them, get pissed, and bring them straight to Rick.

That was a lord knows what will happen situation. Because for all I know he would tell her that he couldn't do anything, or he would start shooting at me.

I had to get Daryl and warn him. But I couldn't while she was out there, and who knows what he did after I had to push him out of the room.

I figured she would do one of three things: A) try to find Daryl, B) look at all the sketches, or C) find Rick. And option C could not happen.

But, I didn't know what to do. If I tore across the prison looking for her, everyone would think something was up. And she may just be jealous. She may not even tell Rick.

Carol was normally a quite girl, right? She did what she was told and never got in trouble. So, she'll just sneak the book back, or burn it.

But, did I really believe that? Nope. Not at all. I wondered where she was. Where Daryl was.

The shower? Was he cleaning himself after working all day? Was he in his bed, wondering what Carol was doing in my room? Was he disappointed that our little moment had been ruined, seeing as how we hadn't had sex since I thought I may be pregnant. Was he in the library, hoping I would know to meet him there?

I was too worried and stunned to do much of anything. I took my boots off, and then my pants. I changed into old sweat pants and a fresh pair of socks. I slid into bed, just as the first star was shining. But I didn't sleep.

Not for hours. I laid in my bed, crying. Every worst possible circumstance exploding in my mind. She could do so many terrible things with that book. I almost wished she would just walk in on us doing it. Then she wouldn't have proof to go parading around to everyone of my embarrassing sketches.

Hours later, stress made me pass out.

I woke from the morning bell, meaning it was eight. A lot of people were already up. Both Carol and Rick were early risers. Were they talking? Was she showing him the sketches?

I quickly got dressed, putting clean jeans on and a few thick shirts and a jacket. I laced my boots and just as I was brushing my hair, Beth came in the room.

"Hey-!"

"Rick wants to see you." she interrupted, looking worried.

"What?" I asked, my stomach twisting, more than I thought possible.

"Kyra, what happened?"

"Where does he want to meet me?" I asked, my face blank.

"In the library. Kyra, is this about that guy?"

"Beth, start praying." I told her, pushing past her.

I slowly walked to the library, feeling like I was going to throw up. I was shaking and I didn't know what to do as I walked. I felt so odd. Like I've never lived in this body and didn't know how to control it.

I opened the library door, seeing a few other people there. Daryl was already seated, looking at the ground, lips pursed. The book was on the table. Carol was in a corner, her puffy red face suggested she'd been crying. Rick was in front of Daryl, across the table from him, standing. Glenn was sitting a few feet away, pushing his hair back. And Michonne was by Carol, an arm slung over her shoulders.

Rick snapped his head towards me, he looked furious.

"Kyra, have a seat." he demanded.

-  
What do you think will happen? (: chapter fifteen coming soon! Sorry these chapters are sort of short, but the next chapter won't be(:

New Episode tonight! And I got "if Daryl dies we riot" shirt. So he better not die tonight!

And to let everyone know, I'm like six chapters in front of you guys (;


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN  
I sat down, choosing the only two chairs by the table. I didn't speak, too afraid to. I tried to look at Daryl, but he was too busy giving the floor a glare.

"What is this?" Rick asked, sliding the book towards me. I didn't look at it.

"I draw. Thats a collection of them."

"Yes, I understand that. But the contents?" his jaw twitched, making him ten times scarier.

"Oh, that." it was the only thing I could think of to say. I felt so stupid.

"'Oh that?' Is that your final answer, Kyra? Because I need a damn good explanation of what the hell this is." he tapped the book hard with his index and middle fingers on 'this'.

"Can I just say that Carol was invading my privacy when she found this?" I asked, raising my head. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Daryl look at me through his hair, then back at the floor. Was he mad at me for the drawings?

"And I'm glad of it. How long has this been going on? Behind our backs?" he demanded, his eyes darting from Daryl, then back to me.

I didn't answer, wanting to hear Daryl talk. But, he wasn't saying anything. And after a few seconds, Rick repeated himself.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Seven months," Daryl finally spoke, looking up for the first time.

Rick closed his eyes, letting out a hard breath through his nostrils.

"And you two were sexually active?"

"Yes," another answer from Daryl.

"Daryl," Rick put his hands on the table, staring at him, "do you understand that she's underage?" Daryl nodded. "Do you understand the age difference between you two? Do you get that a few years earlier, I would have to register you as a sex offender?" Daryl kept nodding, his glance now back on the ground.

"We also kill people now, Rick. That was once illegal, too." I spoke up, wishing I hadn't.

"But sometimes we can't help that, Kyra. I can help that I have a forty year old and a seventeen year old having sex! We still have rules. And breaking rules means consequences. There will be a punishment, just like there would have been before the walkers." he sounded almost calm.

"What are you gonna do? Throw him in prison?" I asked sarcastically, glaring at Carol. Rick ignored me,

"So, what was this? How did this even start? You two decided that you were going to relieve some stress? And, Daryl! Who better to pick then the seventeen year old you were supposed to be mentoring?"

"It just happened," Daryl answered him. I wish now more than ever that I could reach across and hold his hand. That I could hold him. I wasn't sure if I was ever going to have another moment where he whispered in my ear or traced the features on my face. I prayed that Rick was full of empty threats.

"That's an easy enough answer, Daryl. But there have to be consequences for these things. We have to remained civilized, and that means we can't have people with people who shouldn't be. You are using her as your scape goat! It's not right!"

"I am not!" Daryl yelled back, making me jump.

"It's not about the sex, Rick," I argued, feeling uncomfortable.

"So, you two have a relationship? Can you define it for me? You're in a prison, you're decades apart, you have to hide your whatever this is. Do you two even love each other?" he asked, and my heart jumped.

We hadn't said those words. Not even close since the Carol talk in the library. I didn't want to answer and feel like a fool when Daryl said no. I waited for him to answer.

"Well?" Rick pushed.

"Yes." Daryl answered. It was like that was all my heart could take. I wanted to kiss him and love him and jump up, but at the same time I wanted to burst into tears and hit Carol.

Rick hung his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Kyra?"

"Yes." I answered, looking at Carol. She stared back, her lip quivering. I reached across the space to grab Daryl's hand, but found his was already reaching for mine. Our fingers laced, and for the first time that morning I felt comfort.

"There has to be a punishment for this." Rick once again stated, staring at our hands with disgust. "I need to make you guys an example. I'll bring you in front of everyone and tell them what you've done, if you wish to stay together after, you'll then leave the prison. And that's that."

What? Leave the prison? I can't, what if I'm pregnant? The fetus would never survive that trip. I would never survive that trip. No one can alone.

"Rick, we're family. You can't just throw me out! I helped make this place a home, too!" Daryl argued, standing up and dropping my hand. Carol looked at Rick with horror, her plan didn't seem to be turning out the way she wished.

"She's not family, Daryl!"

"Thank, God! That would make this thing a whole lot worst, and incest!"

"This isn't a time to joke. You deserve what you're getting."

"We can't leave the prison." I said quietly.

"Then, you two can no longer see each other. Pick." Rick looked at me, his eyes were like a storm.

"Rick, I can't do either."

"Yes. You can. And you will."

"I'm pregnant!" I yelled, a salty tear sliding down my face. There was a pause. Everyone in the room stared at me. My hands were shaking, finally letting my big secret out. It felt so, so wrong.

"What did you just say?" Rick asked, now more mad than before. How was it possible? Daryl was staring at me, wide-eyed and mouth slightly open.

"I don't know for sure yet, but I'm nearly a month late. Rick, this fetus won't survive out there. I'll be in no condition to travel, I won't last two months."

He was silent, a vein above his forehead was bulging out.

"Michonne, you and Bob get a pregnancy test. Kyra, if you're pregnant you can stay until you have the baby. Then, once you're healthy, you'll be put to a vote on wether or not you can stay.

"Daryl, your vote is coming after she takes that test. Be ready." he stormed out of the room, followed by Michonne and a crying Carol. Glenn looked at me and frowned.

"For your sake, Kyra, don't be pregnant." then he left, looking betrayed.

I looked at Daryl, not sure what to say or do. I was afraid he'd be mad about the sketches or about me being pregnant, but instead he pulled me to him, hugging me.

I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my face against his chest, a steady flow of tears streaming down my face. He didn't say anything, just held me.

"How long have you known?" he asked after a few minutes. I was still pressed against him.

"A few weeks," I whispered against his chest, my eyes closed. "I'm so, so sorry, Daryl."

"Don't be." he pulled away so he could look at me, tilting my head up, "Wether or not that test comes back positive or negative, and wether or not I get voted to stay or go, it was worth it."

I nodded, pulling him to me again. This had all spiraled out of control, and I felt like it was completely my fault. Probably was.

"So, these sketches," Daryl let me go, sitting down in front of the book, "when'd you draw them?" He opened up the blue binding and flipped through the pages.

"I woke up earlier than you. You look very different when you're asleep." He pulled me in his lap, flipping through each embarrassing sketch.

"These are really good. You even have some of my tattoos." he ran his hand over the pages, his other arm wrapped around my waist.

"Yeah.." I reached over, closing the book. "Can we not focus on what got us here in the first place and focus instead on the fact that we may have a few hours left together?"

"First, Carol got us here; second, of course."

I kissed him, gently and almost scared. My hands were timidly on his shoulders. Everything felt wrong. I shouldn't be afraid of losing him, and I shouldn't be afraid of raising this child alone. But I was.

The kiss became more passionate, as they normally did, and my hands were in his hair, and I was crying, again. His hands were under my shirts, clawing against my skin, wanting more.

His lips were on my neck, behind my ear, and then back on mine. His hands went under my coat, pulling it off. It landed on the floor with a soft thud. Then, he was kissing more exposed skin.

I pulled away, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it away from him, every second agonizingly slow. It was still winter and we both had two or three layers of shirts, but they were peeled off immediately.

He kissed across my collar bone and on my shoulders, leaving my skin tingling wherever he touched. My head leaned back and hands tangled in his hair, I quit crying and focused on him.

An hour later we were putting our clothes back on, buckling belts, and finding jackets.

"I should go to my cell and get some stuff together. I'm more than likely going to be kicked out, and I want to make sure I'll be prepared." Daryl said, after we were dressed.

"You don't think you'll get kicked out!" I tried to reason, "They love you, Daryl. There's no way these people would send you out there just because you slept with someone younger than you."

He shrugged, heading to the door. "You never know with these people. They burn each other to make sure no one gets infected, Kyra. Who the hell knows what they'll do if Rick tells them how terrible I am."

So, we walked to his cell, and I sat on his bed while he took out a backpack I've seen many times. He put his poncho in there, a sheet, a spare set of clothes, ammo, a knife, a gun, and somehow the book of my drawings.

He slung it in a corner, and put the bow gently beside it.

"They should be back soon." he said, sitting beside me.

"Should we wait in the library?" I asked, feeling like that was the most appropriate place, seeing as how they left us there. They also left us fully clothed, but you know.

So, we did. We sat in the library and with each agonizing second ticking by, I felt like I was going to explode.

"Kyra," he began talking, holding my face gently with both hands, "every moment I've spent with you has been worth it. And if I get kicked out tonight, just know that me, you, and the baby will be together. I don't care if it's six years from now, I will see you both, again. I'm going to see my son or daughter, and I'm going to make you my wife."

"Daryl, you're not going away, sweetie." I lied to myself, hoping that he really wasn't. Daryl just kissed me lightly, letting my face go.

Suddenly, the library door opened and Rick came in. I hadn't realized it, but a lot of time had passed and the sun was setting outside, casting shadows around the room.

Rick looked much calmer than he was before. Maybe he thought about it and wouldn't send Daryl out.

He threw something on the table. A pink box. A pregnancy test.

"Go, and come right back here." he ordered, but not in a mean manner. Just sad.

I grabbed the box and walked past him, down to the showers.

I didn't look at the stupid stick, just set it on the table in front of Rick and Daryl.

"She's pregnant," Daryl spoke the answer out loud, seeming to take the oxygen away. It seemed very real now that it was confirmed.

"Well, come on, Daryl. Let's go put you to a vote."

Last nights episode! Oh my goodness. Am I the only one who had a minigasm when Daryl started hacking at zombies. Damn, he's a boss. And gorgeous. Mm them arms.


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN  
Daryl stood in front of everyone in the kitchen, looking like he was being auctioned off as a slave. Everyone was quiet, sitting in the floors or standing. Every one but the children were there, having no right to vote. I was in a corner with Beth, who was holding my hand for support. She hadn't said a word since she found out it was Daryl. I wasn't sure if she was angered or just didn't know what to say. At this point, I couldn't care less. I'd deal with it later. There were bigger problems at hand.

"Today, I found out something." Rick began, standing by Daryl. He was calm, and looked like he was going to tell everyone that we'd have to tidy the prison more, instead of what eventually came out of his mouth. "I found out that there's been a sexual relationship going on with a minor and Mr. Dixon." the crowd was obviously surprised, respecting Daryl and letting him be a role model for their kids, and occasionally themselves. But they didn't gasp dramatically or hang their mouth open, they just looked at each other, eyes curious and a bit hurt. "Now, before this apocalypse, we would register him as a sex offender for statuary rape and put him behind bars for a long while. But, we obviously can't do that anymore, seeing as how we are living in a prison. So, I'm going to hold a little court. You all know we've had a council going for a little bit, and we've talked. First, we're going to decide what to do with him, then we're going to vote on wether or not we're going to do that. That way, you guys can have a say in this, too. So, first order of business. What his consequence is. I say we punish him by making him leave the prison. Any other suggestions?" he asked, looking at the crowd. His bluntness was like a stab in the stomach. According to everyone's facial expressions, it was the same feeling.

Hershel stood, his wise eyes looked from me to Daryl, knowing with out having to tell him. "Rick, I think it's unfair we kick him out of the prison for good. He helped make this our home. Was a very big part in it, actually. So, maybe not forever?" he sat down, nodding at Daryl. Was that supposed to help?

Michonne stood up, and I was afraid that she'd argue against Hershel. But she didn't.

"Can we keep in mind that this minor is pregnant? Do you want that baby to grow up with out its father, Rick? Think of Judith, and how she won't have a mother. Do you want that for someone else?" His jaw twitched, but she kept going, "I do agree he needs to be punished. So, I vote that it's six months out of the prison, and then he can come back."

There was a pause, and Michonne looked at the crowd, daring them to say something. She slowly leaned against the wall, crossing her arms.

"Ok, sounds fair enough. Any arguments against that?" Nobody said anything. Mostly because they were still in shock from learning Daryl was in a relationship with a minor. Some too afraid of Michonne.

"Please," I finally spoke up, my breathing hitched. Everyone looked at me, putting it together that I was  
the minor. "Please, don't do this. Nobody can go out there for a month by them selves. Six months? It's too long, Rick. Can't you think of any other punishment besides sending him to his own death?" I begged. My mouth felt like cotton.

"You do not get a say in this," he told me, the calmness fading from his face. Anger stood in it's place.

"And why not? Am I not a member of the prison?"

He eyed me for a moment, then chose to ignore me.

"Ok, that's that then. So, let's vote. All in favor of sending Daryl out of the prison for six months, raise your hand."

The breath was once again taken from me to see so many people with their hands raised. Glenn, Maggie, Hershel, Bob, Michonne, the list went on.

"All those that are against it?"

I raised my hand, along with Beth, Carol, and a few women. Who in reality probably just wanted to get inside Daryl's pants. I was pissed that Carol had her hand raised. She's the one who started all this in the first place. Bitch.

"That's settled then. Daryl will leave tonight, as soon as possible, and will return in six months. No less."

Every one left the room, talking amongst themselves, still very surprised that Daryl would do such a thing. A few people eyed me as they walked by and I could literally feel them judging me.

The only people in the room left were Rick, Daryl, Carol, and Michonne. And me. Beth hugged me, promising to wait up for me, and left.

"Michonne, take Daryl to his room and let him get whatever he needs," Rick ordered, and the two left the room. Michonne kept her eyes on the ground, while Daryl looked at me, our eyes connected. And then he was out of the room.

I stormed over to Rick, glaring at him.

"Rick, if Daryl dies out there and this fetus doesn't have a father, it's on you. Know that." I looked him in the eye, and he looked back.

"Kyra, I had to do it. I respected Daryl-"

"Don't talk about him like he's already dead!" I shouted, in the right mind to punch him. My voice echoed in the nearly empty room.

"I'm not. I'm saying I no longer respect him. Even he should know that sleeping with a minor isn't acceptable."

"I'm almost eighteen. Too bad he won't be there to celebrate." I spit at his feet and stormed out of the room, pissed off. I hadn't realized Carol had followed me until she jerked my arm, pulling me around.

"Rick is not the reason Daryl is being sent out there. You are. You're a slut who couldn't keep her legs closed and now he has to pay for it. You're a temptress and evil-" I don't know what she was going to say next, but whatever it was my fist connecting with her nose stopped it from coming out. She screamed, holding her face.

"You bitch!" Carol screamed, blood pouring out of her nose. I've never hit someone before, but the adrenaline going through me was enough to make my hand throb. And hurt her face.

"You're right, Carol!" I yelled, cradling my hand. "Rick's not the reason. You are! You couldn't stand the thought that I was fucking the guy you're in love with! Well, guess what! I am! And now he may die, because of you!"

She pulled a knife out of her belt, and ran towards me, I was getting ready to pull out mine but we were interrupted.

"Stop it!" Daryl yelled, pointing the bow at her face, as she was pouncing after me, blood pouring from her nose. Carol stared at him, aiming his prized weapon at her. She realized the man she loved was willing to kill her for the woman he loved. She dropped the knife, her eyes filling with tears.

"Daryl..." she reached after him, making him jerk back.

"Don't you ever touch her. If you do while I'm gone, you best pray I'm dead before the six months are up. Cause I'll kick your ass and anyone who tries to stop me." with that, he shrugged the bow on his shoulder and with Michonne leading us out of the prison, we walked to his motorcycle.

"I'll give you two a chance to say goodbye.." she said, backing away out of ear shot and heading to the gate.

"Don't go," I pleaded, grabbing his shoulders.

"I kind of have to, Kyra. But I'm coming back in six months, I promise. And the next two months of your pregnancy, I'll be there. And then the baby will be there. Everything will work out." he dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer.

"Daryl, do not play the brave game right now. You and I both know that you may not come back. Six months is a long, long time with just one person out there. That's 182 days."

"I know. But, I'll find some shelter. I may go back to Hershel's farm, see if it's still over run, or I'll see if there's any cabins or anything. Until I do, I'll sleep in trees so nothing can get to me at night and I'll stay moving. And then it's right back to you. I swear," he pushed some hair out of my eyes. "I have go. I'll count down the days. I... I love  
you."

"I love you, too," I whispered. My throat felt restricted and once again bitter tears found their way to my eyes. I rolled my eyes, wiping them away.

He kissed me, just a short sweet peck, and then he was walking away.

"Daryl!" I yelled, jogging over. He turned towards me, his face clouded by the dark.

"Yeah?" he asked, and I realized he looked like he was going to cry. I didn't know what to say, but looking at him I just made something up.

"You need to trim your beard. So, do that while you're gone." I touched his face, and we both laughed. It was a weak, strained laugh. We'd both been doing that a lot. He grabbed me in one last hug, we shared one last, too short kiss, and then he was on his motorcycle and Michonne was opening the gate.

My knees buckled, watching him disappear down the road. The gates were closed behind him, and I felt like dying. Michonne was by me in a heart beat, lifting me. Supporting me.

"It's ok. Daryl's tough." she smoothed my hair, holding me to her. Michonne and I had never been close, but I held her to me like she was Daryl or Beth.

"But not when he's alone. He's just one person." I sobbed, listening for the motorcycle. I couldn't hear it anymore. Did that mean it stopped? Or was he already gone?

"He won't be."

I was confused. I'm pretty sure he was alone? Did she mean that there would be walkers? Because that wasn't comforting at all.

I looked up at her, but her face gave no clues as to what she meant, and I wasn't going to ask her. I was already crying in front of her for the second time. I wasn't going to look even more stupid.

"Let's get you back inside." she said, letting me lean against her as we entered the prison. I wiped the tears away before we began passing people, but, my face was blotchy and I was still clinging to Michonne.

Later that night, I spent the night in Beth's cell, she insisted I not be alone on my first night without him. We cried together, even though she rarely cried anymore. She cried for me. We talked about how he'd be back soon and baby names. Anything to keep me talking. That way I wouldn't be crying.

"You know Daryl's going to come up with some bullshit redneck name," I joked, making myself laugh. Literally forcing myself. Beth laughed lightly, too.

"Have you been thinking of names? Or what you want it to be?" she asked from the floor. She insisted on letting me take the bed, even though I felt really bad about it.

"I think Daryl would do better with a boy. You know, teach him how to shoot, how to hunt and track. But, with a girl it'd be like his little princess. So, I could care less. Either way, Daryl's going to be a great dad." I answered, chewing on my bottom lip.

"How about you?" she asked, looking up at me in the dark. "Do you think you'll be a good mom?"

I waited a second before I answered, really evaluating myself. Would I be? I was just a kid myself, and you know what they say about kids raising kids. They shouldn't. But, three years of this nonsense makes you grow up. So, maybe I wasn't a kid anymore.

"Yeah, I think I'll do great." I answered with very little confidence.

"Good. Now, let's talk about maternity clothes. 'Cause you're going to need some soon." We both laughed.

"I'm thinking give me sweat pants and large shirts and I should be fine. I'm not trying to look cute. I'm trying to not smother in these clothes."

"We can tell Michonne to get some stuff when she goes out. She takes requests. And she does it almost every other day."

I nodded in the dark, thinking. "If it's a girl, I want her name to be an old name. Something that doesn't sound completely girly." I told Beth, but it was getting late and since she was no longer comforting me on Daryl, she was nodding off. So, I dropped it.

I didn't go to sleep until much later, crying until I couldn't cry anymore. Even inside of the prison life is dangerous. Outside is a whole new game. And Daryl was out there alone. He may put on a brave face, but those teary eyes meant something.

Six months was an awful long time.

So, I'm thinking of doing one or two chapters of Daryl while he's out there. Yes or no? Thanks for reading!


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN  
I marked another day off of my calendar. It was day three. I knew I was getting bigger now, not by a lot but definitely gaining some size. I was probably two months pregnant, as I wasn't sure if Daryl would make it back for the delivery. I always imagined my husband being there whenever I went through these stages. Someone to blame and someone to comfort me. Oh well, I'll always have Beth.

I turned to my bed, and with the hammer I stole from someone else's cell, I beat the living hell out of the bars holding the prison bed. The clanking was loud, and I'm sure someone would come to ask what in gods name I was doing, but I kept hitting it, making small dents.

I was doing this because I needed to move this small thing out and get a bigger one. That way, when Daryl came back, we would have a real bed. Like Maggie and Glenn. But, it was also because I had a lot of steam built up from the dirty looks people had been giving me. People that once loved me and acted like I was family. I'm now the prison slut that can't keep her legs closed and who also broke Carols nose. Which she deserved.

The only people who still talked to me were Beth and Michonne. Sometimes Glenn and Maggie were kind to me. But, they only were when they absolutely had to talk to me. And Hershel was kind to anyone.

He decided to give me weekly check ups to make sure the baby was healthy. So far we'd only had one. He told me everything seemed normal, but we needed to be prepared for the worst.

I heard people running, and I was being jerked back from the bed. I dropped the hammer, sweat beads forming above my eye brows and hair line.

"Kyra! What are you doing?" Rick asked, looking generally concerned. I wanted to spit in his eye.

"I have to make room for my new family. This bed is too small." I told him simply, putting my hand on my hip.

"Your new family? Well, if you promise to not destroy any more beds, I'll see what I can do about it. Maybe I can even get you a bigger room. Clean out one of the offices and make it yours. How's that sound?" he asked.

"Sounds great. And quit treating me like I'm crazy." I looked over to see three or four people looking at me. They all looked at me the way he did. Like I went off the deep end. I'm not. I'm simply trying to get a place ready for when Daryl comes back and when the baby arrives.

"Great," he put his hand on my shoulder and I stepped back, watching it fall. He bowed his head, then looked back at me. "Kyra, I know you're pissed at me. But, I'm looking out for the group. We can't go around breaking rules-"

"I've heard this speech a million times. I don't want to hear it again, Rick. I will forgive you when Daryl comes home. And if he doesn't.." I didn't finish the sentence, feeling like I didn't need to. Rick nodded, and stepped back.

"Start packing your things. We'll get a bed for you and clean out one of the offices. I'll pick one close to the library, seeing as how much you love it. You should be moved in before next week." then he left.

I sat on my damaged bed, wishing I had done more damage. People were still outside, thinking I was crazy. They could think all they wanted. They sent Daryl out there, and they too would not be forgiven until he came back to me.

I wasn't sure how to pack my things, seeing as how I didn't have any boxes, so I just shoved stuff into backpacks and left stuff out that I knew I would need more than once a day.

At noon, Michonne stopped by. She knocked on the outside, then pushed the curtain back and walked in timidly. She knew I was pissed at her, too.

"I'm going out. I thought I could get you something more comfortable. I'm bringing one of the cars instead, so I'll be faster and can haul more stuff." she offered, sitting in my desk chair.

"I just want some sweat pants. And house shoes." I didn't look at her. Maybe by the time the six months was up I could, but I still had 179 days before Daryl came back.

"Anything else? Are you craving anything? Or does that come later?" I think she thought I was a ticking time bomb. Who the hell knew. I probably was.

"No. But, thanks."

"Kyra," she began, leaning over, "I know you're mad at me. I can't tell you how many times that I'm sorry."

"How are you sorry, Michonne?" my head snapped up, making her lean back, worry in her eyes. My dark blue eyes stared into hers. "You voted to put him out there. And he may not come back. That blood is on all of you. So, forgive me if I don't feel like being chummy."

She nodded, standing up. "I'll bring you back some sweats." was all she said as she walked out.

I stood up, and walked over to my desk, angrily wiping back tears. Why did I cry so much? I grabbed a marker and began writing on the wall. I wrote down all the names of the people who voted against Daryl. If he didn't come back, I would see that somehow their life's changed. Wether or not I made them feel guilty until they broke, or I damaged them. They would regret it.

But, if he came back, maybe I could forgive them. Maybe I could move past their evil and see whatever good they held.

At lunch, I went to the library. I pulled out a red book with a dusty and cracked binding. I couldn't tell what the words said, but I didn't care. I just opened it up and started reading.

The main character was a teen age boy with cancer. He was a football player, thought he had the love of his life, plenty of friends.

I read all the way through, sitting in the same position for hours, and enjoyed the moments of happiness, and felt my emotional self cry during the sad parts.

I threw the book down, finishing the last chapter. I hated the ending. Hated it for the poor fictional boy and his shitty life. After losing his girlfriend and a lot of his friends, the kid actually lost his battle with cancer. It sucked. I needed something happier.

I stood up, leaving the book in it's position on the floor, and walked out of the room. Michonne should be back with my sweat pants. And I wanted those things. I was tired of these jeans and uncomfortable boots.

"Hey, Kyra!" Beth came in, holding Judith on her hip. She was wearing the same striped shirt she wore every other day, while Judith was in a blue dress and little booties.

"Hey, Beth," I smiled halfway, deciding on not to look crazy in front of her and pick up the book. I set it in a random shelf, although I would normally get mad at anyone else who did it.

"So, I don't want to tell Rick, but Judith started walking," she grinned, sitting Judith on the table.

"Really? That's awesome!" I took one of Judith's hands in mine and squeezed it lightly. She giggled her adorable baby giggle.

"So, have you thought of any more names for the baby?" Beth asked, sitting down in one of the wooden chairs. I decided to sit on the table, so I could play with Judith. Beth gave me a look that I chose to ignore.

"Well," I started, picking up a stuffed dog and making it climb on Judith. She batted at it playfully. "I feel like Daryl should be here to help make those decisions. So, I haven't thought too much about it. If it's a girl I want it to be an old name. If it's a boy something southern. Not like Leroy or something. I don't know. Do you have any suggestions?" I asked, looking over at her. Judith had both hands wrapped around my index fingers.

"I like something like Darcy if it's a girl. You mentioned that before, and I love it! Or Simon if it's a boy. I think that'd be cute."

I nodded, "I like Darcy, too, and I think Daryl would. But Simon? Don't get me wrong, it's a great name. But I just don't think Daryl would like it very much. You know?"

"Yeah.. It could always be Daryl Jr. You know Daryl would love that." she teased. We both laughed.

We enjoyed comfortable silence got a few moments, just listening to Judith babble.

"So, I hear you're getting a new room?" Beth finally asked, leaning back in her seat.

"Yeah. But I won't get to enjoy it for long," I said absentmindedly.

"Wait... Why not?" she sat up, confusion written all over her face.

"Really, Beth? The only reason I'm still here is because I don't think me nor the baby would make it out there," I pointed out the window, where there was a glorious view of walkers on the fence.

"I don't understand?" she really looked confused. I wanted to hug her. I really loved Beth. But, I couldn't actually stay here.

"Beth, you don't actually expect me to stay when they sent Daryl out to basically die, do you?" I asked seriously, putting my hand on her shoulder.

"I thought he was getting to come back in six months?"

"He is. Then we're going to have the baby here, and after I'm in normal shape, I wouldn't be surprised if we left."

"Why?" she almost yelled, and I quickly shushed her.

"Beth, have you ever seen the scars on Daryl's back?" I asked, picking up Judith and playing with her hair.

"Yeah, once. Why?"

"His family did that to him. His own blood. He thought those people out there loved him. And he loved them. Rick and the others sending him out of the prison is like giving him more scars. He trusted those people."

"But, they do love Daryl.."

She wasn't getting it. So, I dug deep.

"Ok, let me out it in something you may get. Say Hershel, your dad, showed nothing but affection for you for years. He was your idol and the most amazing father ever. Then, one day, out of no where, he beats you. He rapes you. It's brutal and you beg him and others beg him, but he doesn't listen. He keeps beating you and you wonder what happened. What you did that was so wrong. And then the next day, he wants you to forgive him. Completely forget it and let live go on. Do you?" I asked, looking at her with a straight face.

"Of course not!" She said instantly.

"Then why would Daryl want to come back and live among these people who betrayed him? You know, it may have been different if he wouldn't have had such a bad childhood, but he did. They screwed with his mind and he's permanently scared. He really thought that he found his real family, Beth. But they did the same exact thing to him. It wasn't exactly beating him, but it's nearly worse."

"Well, I guess I wouldn't want to be here, either, then."

But, she didn't seem completely convinced.

"Well, I don't want to get kicked out before this little dude pops out," I put my hand on my stomach, "so, can I trust you not to say anything to Rick or Hershel?"

"Yeah, of course!" she nodded, smiling at me.

"Good. I'm sorry, I had to vent. It's been three days and I actually haven't hit Carol when she says smart ass stuff, so I'm thinking I've done pretty great!" I said sarcastically.

"I'm so sorry, Kyra..." she reached over and squeezed my shoulder.

"You're the only one on my side, Beth," I confided in her, smiling lightly.

"I know."

/

Guys, this chapter sucks. I may post another later tonight because I feel bad. Can you forgive me? On the bright side, the Boondock Saints is an effin amazing movie.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN  
Daryl's POV

I waited in the store, behind one of the clothes racks. Michonne said she'd be alone, but I'm not sure who to trust anymore. For all I know this is a set up and she's waiting to ambush me with walkers or some shiI heard the sound of a car and I crouched closer to one of the shop windows. I moved away a purple sweater and felt for my bow. You could never be too safe.

The car came into view, a small grey car with an entirely too loud engine. Would Michonne really choose something as stupid? It had to be, it parked in front of some cars, about ten yards from the shop and the door opened. She popped out and instantly started swinging that samurai looking sword. Michonne always told me that's not what it's called, but I never remember any way.

I waited to see if any more would come out of the tinted windows, and when they didn't, I ran to the door and threw it open.

"Michonne, let's go!" I yelled, shooting a Walker about a foot away from her. She ran over and we shoved the door closed again, putting a shelf in front of it.

"Good to see you're still alive, Daryl," she said, her breathing labored. I nodded, still pissed off at her.

"How's Kyra?" I asked, kicking a box towards her. She sat down on it, and I did the same, sitting across from her.

"She's holding on. She's still mad at me. She's mad at everyone. The only person she talks to is Beth. And she talks to Hershel only when needed for her check ups."

"Good," I grunted, lighting a cigarette. I loaded up on them when I hit a gas station. Might as well. "Has Carol tried any shit?" I asked, offering her a smoke. She made a face and nodded no, so I put them back in my breast pocket.

"I'm not sure what you mean," her face was blank.

"You know what I mean. That little stunt she pulled with Kyra, calling her a temptress and shit. Has she done anything else to her?"

"No, not that I've seen. Ricks got them so they're never together except for meals."

I chuckled, "Did you see Kyra punch her? Now, that's my girl."

"Daryl, she broke Carols nose. Hershel had to reset it." she tried to sound serious, but there was a smile there.

"That's music to my ears, Michonne." I didn't smile. It was day three. I had a lot of days left. Too many. Maybe if I counted by weeks it wouldn't be as bad.

"Daryl, I know you're mad at everyone, but they still love you."

"That's horse shit, Michonne! They don't love me. For God's sake, if that's what love is, I guess my dad loved me after all!"

She was quiet. I was glad she couldn't think of anything to argue with.

I changed the subject, feeling bad for taking it out on Michonne. She was actually helping me. "What's new with Kyra?" I asked.

"Well, she had this fit this morning. Something about her bed wasn't big enough for the both of you and she needed more room for her new family. She personally tried to take out her cell bed with Jack's hammer."

"Did it work?" I asked, blowing out smoke.

"She made a few dents, but no not really. Rick's cleaning out one of the offices and getting her a bed so that she would quit making that awful noise."

"One of the offices? Huh."

"Yeah, I think Beth's going to stay with her until you get back. They were close before, but Kyra really depends on her."

"I can't wait to get back." was all I said.

"I'm not sure how she'll do being pregnant with out the right medical supplies. She may go into early labor. She may even lose the baby," she warned me.

"Michonne, Lori did fine during her pregnancy!"

"Daryl, she also died."

She made a good point. My stomach twisted in nots. I couldn't lose her and the baby. I couldn't lose either.

"Just, don't let it happen. At least wait till I get back."

"Daryl, I already said she may go into early labor. We don't know her families records of their childbirths, and she doesn't exactly want to talk to anyone."

"Well... Damn."

She didn't say anything, and I finished the last drag of my cigarette then threw it on the ground, stomping it with my shoe.

"So, what did Kyra request for maternity clothes?" I asked, wiping my hair back.

"Just some sweats. But, springs coming and she's going to burn up. I guess we can make cut offs."

I nodded, standing up. "Well, let's find her some sweat pants, then."

"We need different sizes, right now she'll probably still be able to fit in smaller sizes, but I'm not sure how her body will change with the pregnancy. Some people are skinny every where but there stomach, some gain weight everywhere. So, get three or four different pair in different sizes."

"And shirts?" I asked, shining my flashlight down the store. It was just a cheap department store, but it should be ok for a little bit. I'd say she didn't really care, but hormones can do crazy things to a woman.

"I'll worry about that. Pretty much the same thing with the pants, except she will get bigger in the stomach. I just don't know how big."

We scanned the aisles, and I filled one of the boxes with different sweats. I added a few gym shorts in case she wanted something different. I still wasn't sure. I also didn't know if Carol was still doing laundry. I'm sure Kyra wouldn't want her touching her stuff. I picked up a gray pair of pajama looking pants and decided to throw them in the box. I waited until I had crammed the box full with stuff. Then I brought it where Michonne and me had set earlier.

I waited on her, and she came back a few minutes later with a box slightly larger than mine.

She set it down beside mine and proceeded to check my box. I guess she didn't have complete faith in me, but she didn't bitch about what was inside, so I figured I was doing ok.

"Do you have the letter?" she finally asked, holding out her hand. I reached in my back pocket and pulled a crumpled piece of paper. I handed it to her, worried that it sucked.

"You're not going to read it, are you?" I asked, using my bow as a prop and put my other hand on my hip.

"No, don't worry. I'll make sure she gets this and only her reads it. I'm protecting her, Daryl. You don't have to worry about a thing while you're gone."

"I'm sure I don't. But make sure you don't get caught. You may get kicked out for making deals with the devil," I joked, but it sucked.

"You're not a devil. You're a fool. There's a difference." she smiled.

"Tomorrow I'm going to head up to this town where I think they have some pretty secluded cabins. I'll probably be back in four days or so. If I'm not, don't freak out and tell Kyra. Wait a week, then tell her if I'm not back."

She nodded, picking up a box. "Where are we going to meet next time?"

"We could meet here since I've already cleaned it out." I suggested, picking up another one of the boxes. I moved the shelf and picked up my bow. We ran to the car, only having to kill a few walkers.

We put them in the back seat and Michonne jumped in the front.

"Please be careful, Daryl. I don't want to have to explain to Kyra that you're not coming back."

"You won't have to."

I stepped back from the car and watched her peel out, running over a few walkers.

While they were distracted, I ran back inside, shoving the shelf in front of the door. I quickly wrote a note to Kyra, stuck it in plain view so Michonne could see it next time she came, and straightened up.

I grabbed my bag and went down the aisles filling it with more shirts and pants. My clothes were starting to stink and I used my other shirt to as a pillow. No need in getting it sweaty, too.

Next, was the superstore. It was just across the street, so I didn't bother getting my bike out. I ran across, not having any difficult with walkers.

Once inside, I grabbed just enough food for a few days. I wanted to be back before those days were up, and my backpack was getting heavy.

I was hopping for some luck and get more cigarettes. I only found one pack, but I needed as many as I could. I felt wired. So, I broke the glass, and picked it up. Puss.

I thought out my plan, looking at a map I got from behind the counter. I would head up to the little commercial town and look for any get away spots. Hopefully, there would be some cabins. It was the south, so there usually was. Then, I would make my way up to those cabins and pray to JC for a miracle.

/

Hm.. How do you like this? I'm indifferent. I'm not sure how to get inside the brain of Daryl Dixon, so I tried to not focus on those kinds of details. Sorry it's not very long. Review! Xx


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN  
When Michonne came in my room at nearly midnight, I wanted to punch her for waking me up. But, she handed me two boxes and a piece of paper, and then I wanted to kiss her.

"Listen," she whispered in the dark, "you can't tell anyone I'm doing this. This right here is the only reason I voted against Daryl. I knew that he would be sent out anyway, and I figured if I looked like I was on Ricks side, I could help out both of you. But you can't let anyone find out, or they'll make me stop. Ok?" she asked, sitting on my bed beside me. I nodded repeatedly, not sure what to say. Out of sheer joy, I reached over and hugged her. She went rigid, but after a few seconds she patted me back.

"Michonne, I can't believe this. You're amazing!" I whispered, staring at the note. I almost wished that she would leave so I could go ahead and read it. But, that would be rude. And she was making sure Daryl was still alive for me.

"It's nothing. Oh, he handpicked your sweat pants. So, sorry if they're a bit crazy." she smiled in the dark and all I could do was grin back.

"This is so great. I thought I would have to go six months not knowing if he was dead or alive. And now I've got a letter from him! I know it's only been three days, but god I miss him. And I just want him to be there for the pregnancy, Michonne. Thank you so so much." I nearly whined it I was so happy and sleepy mixed.

"I'm happy to be of service. I'm going to go to bed and let you read his letter. If you have one for him, I'm probably going to head back out in four or five days. So, before then. Night," she got up and silently slipped out of my room.

I grabbed for a flashlight, finding a small blue one. I turned it on and held it in between my teeth, unfolding the piece of paper. His hand writing was sloppy, slanted, and hard to read. It was the most beautiful thing right then. He was alive as of now. And

'Kyra,  
I'm not sure what to say. For starters, it's my first night away from you. And I guess the baby/fetus thing. You guys are going to do great.

I'm sorry this letter sucks. I hope you can read it. I haven't wrote in a really long time. No need to.

I think I know where some cabins are. I'm gonna check them out soon and make sure they're safe. I hope I can find some so I can make it the safe house for a little bit.

I miss you. I know winters ending and stuff, but I'm freezing my ass off in this store, and you with me would help.

But, don't get any ideas. You need to stay at the prison. The baby wouldn't make it out here while there's not a home, and you need doctors to deliver it. We wouldn't do so well on our own, would we?

I'm currently laying on mildewed carpet and sweaters. I may climb to the roof soon. But it's colder than god knows what out there. I'll just bring some of these sweaters.

Are you nervous? I hope you're not. I guess it's normal for you to be. But I'm more nervous for you. Just remember if Carol tries to pull any shit to bash her brains in. Don't hesitate. She'd be better off dead.

Stay away from everyone for now. I get that Beth's your friend, but I slowly start distancing yourself. You don't have to completely separate right now, but just do it gradually.

You'll understand in six months. I love you. (It feels crazy saying that after holding it in for so long. But, if I die I want you to know that I do.)  
Day 1  
-Daryl'

I smiled and folded the letter up again. I set it under neath some of the sweaters, and laid back down. He was safe. Daryl was alive. Tomorrow, I would write him back and Michonne could send it to him after the fourth day, and it will all be well. By that time, it'll be the seventh day Daryl's gone. Just a week? Ugh.

/

Cries because my reviewers are the most beautiful things ever!


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY  
I hated having to sit across from her everyday. To see that bitchy look she gave me. It made me want to go across the table and beat the hell out of her. But, I didn't. I ate my food, put my bowl in the sink, and left.

I did my own laundry. I would wait until she left and bring my clothes down and wash them. I was alway alone, but it saved me from knowing she touched my stuff.

I already didn't like the fact that she helped cook my food. I wanted to throw it up every time I ate it. But, I somehow managed to keep it down.

I didn't return the looks Carol gave me. I ignored them and smiled at Beth and laughed. I never let Carol see me cry. She couldn't know how much she hurt me, ever. I could never give her that satisfaction.

I've dreamed everyday that I'll get to take something and bash it over her head. In the day dream, Daryl pulls me off her, telling me it's not worth it, while she lays in the floor crying out for Daryl. He spits on her, and we walk away as she sobs on the floor. It's always the same and it pops up in my mind five or six times a day. It was beautiful.

I quit watching Judith with Beth. I was trying to slowly distance myself from her, and spending hours watching Judith wasn't doing that. So, I told her I needed to do my own chores and keep up my part in the prison. I would haul water, sweep, reorganize the library when there wasn't anything else to do, or pick up random stuff.

We still hung out. We ate meals together, she slept in the office they turned into a room with me, we still spent too much time together. And I didn't like not having anyone to talk to.

I still had to act pissy with Michonne. That was really hard, because right now she was like Jesus in disguise.

Michonne and I had discussed letting me go on 'raids' with her, that way I could see Daryl. But, she said that while I'm pregnant, they may argue against it and realize something was up. So, I sadly agreed.

Today, Michonne was going to meet Daryl again. Day 7. A week since he left. I had yet to write my letter. I just kept staring at his, nearly crying every time. It was a little piece of him from out there. It was amazing.

I sat down at my desk in my new room. I took out a piece of paper and a blue pen and began writing.

'Dear Daryl,  
God, I miss you like crazy. It's really only been a week? It feels like a thousand. I can't wait for you to be home. I'm going to be fat by the time that happens, so, don't get too excited.

I tried to see if Michonne could take me out with her so I could see you, but she said it would be risky. I guess it would, but the chance to actually see you and feel you was too amazing to not ask. We only have 175 days left. Wow, it sounds a lot worse when I put it that way.

I hope you found a good shelter. Maybe someplace nice enough that you can stay the entire six months in. And, you know I don't mean nice as in comfy. Nice as in sheltered and safe.

I don't know what I would do if I lost you out there, so you have to promise me that you'll come back and have all your limbs (no offense to Merle) and not be a Walker. (Damn, again no offense.)

Sorry, I'm just nervous. I don't mean to be rude. Maybe it's the hormones. Do hormones kick in this quick? Well, I'd hardly call this quick. I'm two months pregnant! Nearly three!

My eighteenth birthday is coming up in a few days. I wish you could be here to celebrate. Because I would technically be legal, therefore we could celebrate with... Sex! So, I guess we'll just have to wait onmy birthday sex, huh?

I'm trying to make light of this whole situation, but in all honestly I could kill everyone out there. I want to rip them apart from the people they love, from their significant other, and make them just wander around out side the gates for six months. I want them to be Walker bait and I want to be the one who has to put them out when they get bit and turn. It would be the sweetest revenge.

Sadly, I don't do revenge well. I just sort of silently kill them and send them to hell over and over again.

Is it just me, or does this letter have serious mood swings?

I had a checkup with Hershel today. The baby's doing great! He said everything is going as it should. I'm not sure when I'm supposed to be able to hear a heart beat, but I can't wait. I'm going to ask Michonne to get me a baby book the next time she's out. One for names and one for facts about pregnancies and stuff. Maybe we'll be in luck and she'll find one titled "How to be a Mom in the Apocalypse", it'd be useful.

Do you want a boy or a girl? Have you thought of any names? I can understand if you haven't. You've been all over the place, I'm sure.

I love you to the moon and back and pray that you're alright. Be careful and don't trust anyone. (Chances are you're not going to find anyone out there, but you never know.) So, be safe, love.

Day 7  
-Kyra'

I folded up the letter neatly, making minimal amounts of creases. I kissed it, and prayed that both Michonne and Daryl would stay safe out there. I couldn't stand to lose either one. Even though I'd only just realized a few days ago how much Michonne cared about Daryl and me, she was a big part of my life now.

I put my hand to my stomach and whispered, "Pray daddy gets this safely."

Was it weird to talk to the fetus? I had been lately. Maybe it was odd. I wasn't sure. One time my aunt was pregnant, but she was distant and lived an hour away. And when my brother was born I was only four. So, I had no real experience with babies.

I laid on my new bed, my shirt pulled up so my stomach was exposed, and just set my hands on my slightly bulging stomach. I wish I could feel it moving. Did it even move yet? I wasn't sure about any of it, really.

There was a knock on the wooden door and through the blurry glass I could see a silhouette.

"Come in," I said, putting the letter under my pillow, although I was sure it was just Michonne.

It was, and she walked in, wearing a tshirt and jeans. It was getting warmer outside and jackets weren't really needed anymore. But, it was too cold for her tank tops she was so fond of.

"Hey, I'm going out. Need anything?" she asked, closing the door.

I handed her the letter and smiled. "If you find a place with book, a book or two about babies would be super useful."

She walked around the room, it only being slightly larger than my other one. But, it was enough to get a bigger bed and somewhat of a crib. As for now, it would do. I was only here 175 more days.

"Kyra, can I ask you something important?" she asked, sitting in my desk chair.

"Yeah," I answered, one eye brow slightly raised.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm pro Daryl and all, but, why him?" she asked. It was sort of an odd question coming from her. I didn't expect it to say the least. I wasn't sure how to answer it by no means.

"Um, I don't know. I guess we just grew closer and one thing led to another." I answered, but it was a pathetic answer.

"But- and feel free at any time to tell me to shut up- what happened that just sparked up a relationship between you two?"

"It was after my first, and only, raid. I was upset and he was there. He was always there. Daryl may look tough, but he has this heart of gold and he's completely willing to give up his life to save your own. He was there for me in the library and one minute we're just hugging and the next... It was more." I felt pretty proud of my answer.

"So, when did you guys start having sex? Or, was that night the night you guys started having sex?" she was so blunt! Just bam!

"No. We actually tried not to get closer. But, after a few weeks things just escalated and after barely speaking, we were in a tight space and I just knew that I wanted to be with him."

"This may sound very... Teen girlish... But, what happened? Did you make the move, did he? Is he a rough lover, or is it more gentle. Were you scared the first time?"

"The first time, like I said, we were in a tight space. We were checking traps and were just bombarded by this mini herd and we ran and found this little shed. We were quiet and he was looking out of this little crack. He turned around to tell me it was clear, and our faces were inches apart," I nearly forgot I was telling Michonne the story, my eyes were closed and I imagined it all again. When I had Daryl. "We just stared at each other for a minute, and then I stepped closer. His breath was on my face and I wanted to kiss him so so bad. But, I didn't want to be pushy, so I waited. And he closed the gap between us, and before I knew it my hands were in his hair and his were under my shirt. I'll spare you the details, but that's how we started it all. And you wanted to know if he was rough or gentle. It depends on what mood. But, normally he's gentle. It surprised me, at first. But, he is." I opened my eyes and looked at her. She was smiling.

"So, your first time with Daryl-"

"First time all together," I interrupted.

"Right, so your first time.. Was in a shed?"

"Well, yeah. It's not the most romantic place, but.." I laughed slightly, and she did too.

"Well, thanks for sharing your wonderful experience with me." she stood up and put the letter in her back pocket. "I'll see you when I get back."

Then she was gone.

I had never told anyone about my first time. I was glad it was Michonne that I told, and glad she didn't judge me or anything. When I left the prison, I wanted her to go with us. She was part of my family now.


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE  
Beth and I were laying in silence, her cot a few feet from my bed. I was half asleep and nearly dreaming, already.

"Kyra," she began, making me jump, "what was your old life like?"

"What'd you mean?" I asked, sitting up to find she was already sitting up, too.

"Like, did you have any siblings, did your parents get along, did you make good grades, did you have a boyfriend, were you popular, did you play any sports, etcetera."

"Oh..." I laughed slightly, "well, for starters I had a brother. He died when he was just a few months old. I was really little."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she apologized.

"Don't be. I'm glad he didn't have to deal with the walkers and stuff. It's better that he was gone before it. But, my parents did get along. They were married until my mom died. She was bit by a walker when the plague first broke out. And my dad died a few years later due to the Governor. They were really happy. It crushed my dad when he lost her.

"No, I didn't make good grades. I tried, but it was good if I brought home a high b. I just never really liked school. So, I didn't get it.

"I've never had a boyfriend, no. I had a valentine once, but, to answer another question, I wasn't very popular. I kept to myself and boys didn't seem so important to me. And, I always had a thing for older gentlemen. Not like creepy granddad old. Just a few years older than me. And my dad didn't let me date older guys.

"The only sport I ever did was hunting and fishing. I could be alone with an excuse. It was quiet and peaceful and I could just sit there with my gun and wait. I was a pretty good shot with a scope. Still am. But, that's all I really can say. I was pretty boring. I read books, I drew, I listened to old music, my parents were good to me, I was never bullied and I had like two friends."

"Who were your friends?" she asked.

"Albany Creek was my closest friend. We met in sixth grade and she was in to most of the stuff I was. So, we bonded. I miss her a lot, but I try not to think about it."

"Do you think she's still alive?" she asked.

"I'm not sure. I wouldn't have thought I would be alive right now. It's a pretty big miracle. So, she may."

Beth nodded in the dark.

"But, that's my life. Nothing special. I would have never guessed I would be in a scandalous relationship with someone twice my age. Before I was even legal. And be pregnant. I guess the apocalypse has changed me." we both silently laughed, and I laid back down.

I didn't think my relationship was scandalous. Did she? It's possible. She's been there for me and been a great friend, but in the back of her mind, she could be judging me and think just like every one else. Was she part of the Daryl/Kyra/Michonne/Fetus family? Or was she putting on a fake face.

When I left, I wanted to ask Beth to come with us. But, I knew she couldn't leave her dad and Maggie. So, I wouldn't ask. I wouldn't even tell her I was going. The four of us, if Michonne would even leave with us, would just get up in the middle of the night and leave. Close the gate behind us and by then, maybe Daryl would have some place built up. Some place safe. And we'd stay there.

I would miss Beth. But, I have to. For Daryl and for the baby. She would never understand, and I can completely get that. She would have to go through what I've gone through to understand. I don't even understand Daryl's sad childhood. He won't let me know all of it, he just skims the edges. But, I know enough that I never want someone to hurt him again.

And they did. That's the part Beth doesn't get. That's the part that doesn't make sense to her. She thinks what Rick did was justice. That's why I'm pretty sure in the back of her mind she thinks I'm a whore. That Daryl and I don't love each other, and this baby will be a product of that.

Beth loved people. But, she didn't understand them. She was a good person. But, I didn't think she was part of the family. No, she wasn't a part of the family.

The next morning, when I woke up, Beth's cot was empty. I looked outside and the sun was just coming up. She must have went to pee or something.

I stretched, climbing out of bed. I was wearing gray pajama pants and a loose T-shirt. The shirt was probably meant for my later pregnant days, but I liked how it hung on me. So, I wore it anyway.

I made my bed, folded up Beth's cot, straightened the things on my desk, swept the room, and scrubbed some icky thing off the window, before I decided to go down to breakfast.

I was still pajama clad, and hadn't bothered to brush my hair. So, when I walked in it wasn't a surprise people gave me some looks. I didn't care. They were always giving me looks.

I took a biscuit and sat at an empty table. I slowly chewed my first bite, realizing how burnt and nasty it was. Were they always like this, or was it the hormones? I continued to eat it anyway, although it left a foamy taste in my mouth.

I looked around the room, still wondering where Beth had went off to, and found her sitting with a few people. I didn't want to interrupt her conversation, so I just got up and left, throwing the rest of my biscuit away as I walked out the door.

I didn't have anything to do today, and it was currently day 8. Without Daryl to run off with, the prison was extremely boring.

So, I decided to look for Michonne. I found her in the library reading a book. Her head snapped up when I came in, smiling when she realized it was me.

"Hey, Kyra. You're up early this morning. I was about to give you the stuff you asked for. I got a few different baby books," she held up the one she had been reading, "and a message from Daryl." she slid a piece of paper across the desk. I snatched it up, stuffing it in my pants line.

"Michonne, you're beautiful!" I reached across the table and hugged her, she hugged back, and I was pretty surprised. "So, is there any update on him?" I asked, sitting down across from her.

"He hasn't found a place to stay yet. He rode for two days straight the first night. So, he came back and slept at the department store where we got your clothes. He's made quite the fort out of ugly sweaters. But, he's heading out again tonight."

"I'm not sure if I like him on his motorcycle all night. If there was a herd, there'd be no way he could get out of there in time." I rested my cheek on my first, propped up.

"I know. I warned him, but he likes the motorcycle. He said after he finds a place he may get a truck or something so he can haul stuff better. I hope so. It'd be an upgrade."

"Agreed. Have you ate breakfast, yet?" I asked.

"No, but I hate those biscuits. But, I have lunch patrol. So, I'm going to head down there and get a biscuit soon."

We sat in silence for a few minutes and I reached for one of the baby books. A little yellow book with different names and their meanings.

I flipped through the pages and found a few cute names. Nothing that I would want to name my child though.

Eventually, Michonne got up to eat and I rushed back to my room, hauling the baby books with me. I sat them down on my desk and took out the letter.

'Kyra,  
I still haven't found a place to stay. I'm staying in this department store until I can find something. But, it's too close to the prison. I'm leaving to find something else after Michonne leaves.

The only baby name I can come up with is Daryl Jr. (Yes I know you won't go with it. Sorry).

I could care less if it's a boy or a girl. I would love it either way. It's name could be Nail and I would love it.

How are you doing through your pregnancy? Hershel says medically you're fine, but are you getting sick, cranky, are you craving stuff? Get Michonne to buy you some pickles or something.

I don't know why I said pickles. Don't a lot of women crave pickles when they're pregnant? Or is it all different? Either way, pickles.

I've been living off of cold spaghetti O's and stale crackers. I actually used to eat this all the time, so I'm pretty content.

I can't wait to see you and the baby. Have you gotten any bigger? I can't wait to be able to put my hand on your stomach and feel the baby kick.

How are you and Beth? I hope you've put some distance between you two. I have a good reason. I'm not just trying to separate you guys. I swear. I just can't explain it right now. I need to say these things in person.

I miss you. This time is going way too slow. I love you, Kyra.

Day 8  
-Daryl'

I wiped back a few tears and folded the letter up. I opened up one of my drawers and took out a blue book. I opened it, the pages cut out, and set note number two inside. I carefully placed it back in the drawer and closed it, sitting back and closing my eyes.

"God, I miss you." I whispered in the air.

I felt so lonely. I couldn't talk to Michonne out in the open and it was like I was hiding all over again. I couldn't even talk to Beth anymore. It was like I couldn't escape this lonely little girl hidden inside me. I hated it and I wanted Daryl back.

/

So, my ideas for upcoming chapters are probably going to piss some of my readers off. Specifically one in particular. But they won't come for a little bit. Review my lovelies!


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO  
I woke up with awful cramps. I cried out, doubling over in bed. Beth came running to me, asking me if everything was ok. My breathing was labored and I couldn't catch my breath. I screamed again, the pain was like someone burning me from the inside out.

"Kyra! Answer me!" Beth screamed, grabbing at. I clutched my stomach, and took a deep breath, the sharp pain not leaving me, just easing. I took a few more shaky breaths before I answered.

"I think I'm fine." I was sweating, my hair was sticking to me around my face and neck. I threw the covers off me. "I think it's just pregnancy pains. Is that normal?" I asked, sitting up.

"I don't think so, Kyra. I'm gonna go get Daddy," she turned to leave and I grabbed her arm.

"Wait.. Just give it a few hours. It may be normal. No need in waking him up just to tell me it's normal."

"Are you sure?" she asked. I could barely make anything out in the dark, but it was obvious she was worried. "You were screaming pretty loud. You may be having some problems."

"I'm fine, Beth! My baby's fine!" I yelled, not meaning to. But, I was incredibly worried. I hadn't gotten around to reading those books. It had been a few weeks since Michonne gave them to me, but I've had my eighteenth birthday and chores. I'm tired all the time.

"But, tomorrow, you'll see daddy?" she asked sitting down. I nodded, laying down beside her.

"Yes. I promise I will. But, I'd feel bad if I woke him up and it wasn't a big deal, Beth."

"But, it could be a big deal! Daddy said that we're not sure how you're going to react to the pregnancy and how the baby will change. It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Kyra."

"It's not about being embarrassed. I just don't want to have to wake Hershel up when nothings wrong. I'm going to see him as soon as I wake up tomorrow, I promise. Let's just go to bed."

"Fine..." she got up and laid back down in her cot.

"Thank you," I whispered, looking over at her in the dark. My throat felt constricted.

"For what?" she asked.

"Being here."

The next morning when I woke up, I put on a fresh pair of dark blue sweat pants and a baggy T-shirt. I slipped on these moccasin-like slippers and walked out of the room, leaving Beth still asleep.

I walked around the prison, passing Hershel's room multiple times. The cramps were still there. Why did they feel so much like period cramps? It wast supposed to do that, was it? No. No.

On my third go-around, I finally knocked on the door. There was a stir, and then Hershel appeared, looking half asleep. He squinted at me, I must've woke him up. Damn it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up, Hershel. I can just come back later..."

"No, Kyra. Come on in. Is something wrong?" he swung the door open and walked/limped inside. I followed, sitting on the chair by his bed.

"I was having some cramps last night. They woke me up and Beth asked me to see you." I stared at the floor, praying everything was alright with my baby.

"Tell me what's happened." He was sitting on the edge of the bed and stared at me. He was so wise and old. And it was like he already knew what was happening.

"Well, I just woke up in the middle of the night screaming. It felt like something was stabbing me. They were awful cramps and I was sweating, like I was sick. I'm four months along. That's really all I can say. I don't know what's happened."

He nodded, hands sticking out. He looked at me as if to ask permission and I lifted my shirt so my stomach was exposed. He felt the sides and the middle of the stomach. He took awhile, his cold hands leaving chill bumps.

"Have you felt anything like period symptoms or lack of pregnancy symptoms?" he asked, straightening his back. He crossed his legs.

"I'm not even sure what pregnancy symptoms would be, Hershel. And with the period pains, just the cramps."

"Pregnancy symptoms would include breast tenderness, nausea, back pain, feet swelling, etcetera.

"Well.. No I haven't really felt any of those. Not for awhile. I just figured that stage passes?"

"Kyra, you may be experiencing early symptoms of a miscarriage. It's not very common at four months, so you may just be experiencing normal pregnancy pains. But, I want you to just take it easy for the next few days. Don't work, read some books, catch up on your sleep. But, try staying off your feet. Just rest. I'll come to you for daily check ups, make sure that everything's still doing well. Remember, this is just precautionary."

My hand was over my mouth, my eyes pricking with tears. A miscarriage? Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

"So, there's nothing we can do?" I asked, feeling like hell.

"I'm afraid not. We just have to wait it out and see what happens."

I nodded and wondered if he could hear my heart beating as loud as I could.

"Kyra, don't be scared. A lot of women have miscarriages their first pregnancy. If it doesn't work out, you and... Daryl could always try again."

"This... It's not right. Oh my god, everything was fine! I thought you only had miscarriages in your first few weeks, before you were even big!"

"You can have a miscarriage anytime through out the pregnancy. It doesn't happen very often, but it does happen. But, Kyra, it may be fine. We're just being cautious."

"Thank you, Hershel.. Can we keep this between ourselves?" I asked, gripping the side of the chair.

"Kyra, you don't have to be ashamed. It's nothing you did."

"I just don't want to worry Beth," I stood up, leaving the room.

I couldn't go back to Beth and tell her. So, I walked around the prison. Probably for hours. I lost track of time. I walked through different cell blocks and through the showers. The sun started peeking out through the windows.

But, eventually I found myself in the kitchen. Carol was in there, making biscuits.

"Hey," I said awkwardly, already walking in and realizing it was too late to walk out.

"Hey," she didn't look at me, just continued to lay biscuits on a large pan. I walked over and started opening cans and doing the same. My fave was probably red, feeling awkward being there.

"How's the baby?" she finally asked.

"Actually, not good, Carol." I sniffed, laying a biscuit down and looking up at her. She actually looked mortified.

"What's happened?"

"It's not like you really care. And I won't bore you with the details, Carol. Let's just make these biscuits." so we did.

The only noise was the sound of cans opening and trays being moved. It was awkward and I could feel the tension. We didn't like each other. So, why were we helping each other out?

"Are you having a miscarriage?" she asked filling the awkward silence.

I sat down on the floor, nodding. I couldn't speak. If I spoke the tears would come out and I didn't need her to see that. I promised I wouldn't cry in front of her.

"Do you know for sure?" Why did she sound so kind? Why did she sound like she actually cared?

"Why do you care?" I croaked, sounding more rude than I meant to be.

She paused, her lips pursed. She thought for a moment, then began speaking.

"Because, Kyra, even though I don't really care for you, I care for Daryl. And I care for his family. So, by default, I care for you. If you lost this baby, it would kill him, too."

"I.." I began, but my lip trembled and I stopped. I took a few deep breaths and began again. "I don't know for sure. Hershel says that it may just be pregnancy pains, but I need to be cautious. So, there's nothing we can do and I may just lose my baby."

"I lost a kid." she began, sitting beside me. Not close, an easy foot and a half could fit in between us. But she was there. We hadn't even spoken since Daryl left, and now we were sitting together sharing feelings. The only thing missing was a spirit/feelings stick and a bonfire.

"I know," I hope I didn't sound harsh. I was just grieving. She understood that right? Why the hell did I care if she understood!?

"Did Daryl tell you? You know, he got shot looking for her." she chuckled a little. "I know it's not the same, but I'm just letting you know that I understand. And although we don't like each other, if you need someone who understands, you can see me."

I stood up, wiping my eyes. "I need to go lie down. But.. Thanks."

I left the room, feeling weirder than when I first arrived. She was only being nice because... I didn't know why she was being nice. Maybe it's because she really does care for Daryl, and that means the people he loves. But, two hours ago, she hated me. So, I guess she has a heart?

I got up to my room, and laid back down in my bed. Beth was up, but I hoped she wouldn't ask about where I was or what I was doing. Because I would lie.

"Hey, where've you been?" she asked to my displeasure.

"I went to see Hershel." I hoped she'd drop it at that, but I knew she wouldn't.

"Really?" she sat up, knocking the covers on the ground. "What happened? Is the baby ok?"

I pulled the covers up to my chest and fluffed my pillow. I laid down and looked up at her. "It's great."


	23. Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE  
Daryl's POV  
I missed her. I missed everything about her. Her weird laugh, how easily she got pissed off, how passionate she was- in the bed and standing for what she believed. Everything about her.

It had only been a little over a month. Day 34. I still had a long fucking time until I could hold her again. Too long. I needed to be able to talk to her, to kiss her, to make her laugh. I wanted to do all those things she wanted a husband to do. I needed to be able to tell her how fat she was getting, and tease her, and comfort her. Everything that she dreamed of wasn't happening. She wanted someone to be there every step of the way. And not just anyone, but her husband.

The sound of footsteps drug me from my thoughts and I looked up. A walker made it's slow pace towards me, blood dripping from it's mouth. Must've had lunch already. That makes one of us. I ignored it, it wasn't worth wasting ammo on.

I walked from the woods back to my bike, perched a bit off the main road. I've spent a month looking for a fucking cabin and haven't found a single one that isn't rotted to nothing or torn to shreds.

I jumped back on my bike and took out the map I got from a gas station. Along with it, I lit a cigarette, taking long drags and making smoke rings.

There was another cabin maybe ten miles away, so I would check it out and if it was no good, head back down to that shitty department store and wait for Michonne before heading back out.

I started the bike as three walkers made their way out of the woods. One didn't have an arm, the other two were nearly naked. Pitiful things. If Kyra was here, she'd probably imagine what their life was like before they turned. I tried not to think about that as I rode past them, making sure to put some distance between us.

I was surprised that on my way up the winding mountain road I didn't see more walkers. Or even a herd. With my shitty luck, I should have seen one by now. But I didn't. I had JC to thank for that.

I passed trees and they all looked the same. I dodged random walkers in the middle of the road and almost wrecked once, but I didn't. Miles passed and eventually the pavement turned into gravel.

At times like this I wish I would've listened to Michonne and hijacked a truck. I half way knew how, thanks to my past, and it wouldn't have been easy. But not impossible. I could've brought more food too. Gotten more than one change of clothes.

A wider drive way appeared and a row of trees were on each side. It seemed more like a rich persons house than a cabin. But, maybe I'd get lucky and it would be complete with a gas stove, water pump, maybe even a creek. Hell, maybe it'd be in one piece.

The cabin came into view and the first thing I noticed was there weren't a thousand walkers swarming it and the porch didn't have a giant hole in it. I stopped my motorcycle in the drive way and shouldered my bow. I left the backpack there, seeing as how it could be ruined on the inside.

I was walking up the porch steps when I noticed a truck in the drive way. That would be convenient. I could keep my motorcycle and use a truck.

The door was locked. I dropped to my knees and stuck my knife in between the door and the lock and jiggled it around.

"Hold on, there!" a voice yelled from the inside, making me jump and cut a small hole in my finger. I cussed, backing away from the door.

The door cracked open to reveal a mans face. Probably early thirties.

"Who are you?" he asked, part of his gun sticking out, warning me. I dropped my knife and laid my bow down, raising my hands, saying I wasn't here to hurt anyone.

"My names Daryl. I didn't know anybody was here." I answered, wondering how many people were inside. It was a pretty big cabin. Probably three rooms.

"How many do you have with you?" he asked, walking out and closing the door behind him.

I looked back at my lonely motorcycle, wondering what this guy was thinking.

"It's just me."

"How long has it been just you?" he asked, looking at a window. He must have a family in there.

"About a year," I lied, wishing I wouldn't have dropped at least one of my weapons. If he tried to shoot, I'd like to be able to fight back.

"Why?" Damn he was full of questions. I guess I would be, too.

"My family just got picked off one by one. I was the last standing after a herd attacked our camp." I just came up with that off the top of my head. Huh.

"Any kids?"

"No," I answered, thinking about Kyra and the baby.

"What's your reasoning for being here?" he asked, setting the gun down. That was quick.

"I've been looking for a cabin for a month now. I've found about six but all of them have either been over run or rotted to shit. This was the next one on the map."

The guy looked me up and down. He walked down the steps and held out his hand.

"Daryl? I'm Jack." I shook his hand. "You can stay with us for a little bit. But, I don't know for how long. Just know that if you pose a threat to my family, I will shoot you." I nodded, picking up my now.

"Leave that out there. And any other weapons you may have. I don't want you having access to them until I think I can trust you."

I put the bow back down. "Fair enough. Can I get my bag?" I asked, throwing my thumb in the direction of my bike. He nodded and I walked over, picking the bag off the ground. I walked back to the cabin, and Jack walked in. I followed and closed the door behind me.

There was a woman sitting on a couch holding a young girl, she was probably four or five.

"Daryl, this is my wife Miriam and our daughter Belle." he pointed at them, setting the gun in a closet under the stairs.

They waved, the little girl hiding under her mothers arm.

"We're going to house him for awhile, see if we can trust him. He's been on his own for a while. We'll see how it works out and go from there."

He walked into the kitchen and I followed, sitting my bag on the floor.

"Listen, you can have the room right here," he pointed to a door, "but, tomorrow you'll start pulling your own weight around here. We have chores to do. Lunch will be ready in a few minutes. Miriam is making chili. You can unpack your bags and maybe freshen up a bit," he crinkled his nose. I hadn't been able to take a shower in a few days. That was slightly embarrassing.

He walked out, and I went into my room. It was small, almost like a large closet. There was a bed, a set of drawers, and a tiny closet. I laid my bad on my bed and took out the extra pair of clothes. I put them in one of the drawers and began unpacking everything else.

The book of Kyra's drawings, a blanket, some extra arrows I picked up from different stores I've been through. I didn't have much. But, now I would sleep on a bed. I just needed an excuse to be gone once a week to see Michonne. I could think of something until that time. I still had two days.

I laid on my bed and closed my eyes. Holy hell this felt awesome. A month without a bed could do wonders to a mans back. And not the good kind. I fell asleep a few minutes later. It was a light uneasy sleep, but all it was the best one I've had since the last time I was in Kyra's bed.


	24. Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR  
There was something warm in my bed. Did I piss myself? I threw the covers back and screamed. Red everywhere. Blood everywhere. It was in the sheets, on my covers, all over my pants.

"Hershel!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, staring at the mess in my bed, paralyzed. "Hershel!"

Beth ran to me, eyes wide. "Oh, my god, Kyra!" she screamed, gagging at the mess.

"Get Hershel! Now!" I screamed, trying to stand and sliding in the blood. It was still coming. "Now!"

She ran out of the room, screaming for her dad. I took off my blood soaked pants, my pain nearly unbearable but I couldn't just lay around in my own blood. I threw the sheets off in the floor, making a pile. I doubled over, throwing up in a corner.

"My baby," I whispered, holding my stomach. "Dear, God, my baby. Some one save my baby!" I screamed. There were fast footsteps. I sat in the floor, a puddle starting again. There was nothing I could do. What the hell could I do!?

"Please! Someone! My baby is dying!" I screamed, making a fist and hitting the wall behind me.

Rick was in the door way, looking at the mess. "Oh, god.. Let's go, Kyra," he tried to pick me up, but I pushed him away.

"I need Hershel, Rick! My baby's dying!"

"I know, we have to get you to him. Let me help you."

He helped me to my feet, and with my arms around his waist, we made our way to Hershel. I sobbed the whole way, leaving spots of blood on the floor.

"My baby.." I whispered over and over again.

He patted my hair, his arm supporting me while the other comforted me. He already knew it was too late to save my baby. But it wasn't.

We arrived at Hershel's room and I was instantly transported to the bed. There were people in the room, but I couldn't focus. Someone was holding my hand while Hershel worked. I looked over, Michonne. Whispering to me and wiping my hair out of my face. "Stay strong," I heard. My baby would be ok, right?

It felt like forever, but something happened down there. Something big. They wrapped something in a cloth and Hershel was whispering to Rick. They looked at me, and Rick knelt near the bed.

"I'm very sorry, Kyra." He was holding the ball. What was that? Why did he have a bloody cover?

"Is that my baby?" I whispered, not realizing I had. Rick hung his head, looking at Hershel.

"Yes."

I held out my arms, trying to take it from him. "Kyra, I don't think that's a good idea," he tried, but I grabbed it.

I didn't open the blanket, just held the small bundle and wept. I prayed over the baby, whispering fast and low. I rocked back and forth, crying and praying, holding the bloody bundle to my chest.

Everybody was staring at me. Pity in their eyes. But I just stared at the bundle, my baby inside. My dead baby. The baby that wouldn't even have a name. That I never got to meet. That Daryl never got to meet.

I sniffed and handed the bundle back over to Rick. I wiped my nose on my sleeve, not realizing there was blood on it. There was blood everywhere. I looked up to everyone, just in time to see Rick walk away with my baby.

Carol was in the door way, her hand over her mouth. Michonne was by my side, looking at the floor. Beth was by Hershel, obviously mortified and had been crying. Glenn and Maggie were in a corner, their faces remorseful.

"Kyra," Hershel began, looking at me from his chair. "We're going to have to clean you now, ok? I'm sorry. Everybody, if you could give us some privacy." Everybody walked out of the room, Michonne stood up, but I grabbed on to her.

"Please, don't leave," I begged. She sat back down, holding on to my hand.

"It's going to feel a little cold, Kyra, but it won't take long." Hershel warned, as he cleaned the blood inside me. It felt so wrong. I closed my eyes and groves Michonne's hand, holding back sobs. I felt like my heart was broken in like seven hundred different places.

It was over within thirty minutes, but I just laid there. I wasn't crying anymore. I stared at the ceiling, this darkness of depression settling over me. I didn't have Daryl, and now I didn't have my baby. Rick was probably digging it's grave right now, and I would never know if it was a boy or a girl.

"Michonne," I began, looking over at her. She looked up, her other hand going over the one I was already holding.

"Yes?"

"Don't tell Daryl. I need to tell him." I told her, glad Hershel wasn't in there.

"Kyra, he asks me how the baby is every time I see him."

"And you'll say it's doing great. Until I can tell him in person that it's no longer here. I can't have someone else telling him," I begged, feeling like shit. How would I tell him? It would be near impossible. It would break his heart.

I went back to my room, not wanting to see my baby being buried. I was already smaller. I could probably fit in my old jeans. But, I didn't want to. I wanted to lay in my bed and just die. I wanted to climb to the top of the prison and jump off the roof.

I probably would have, too, if it wasn't for Daryl. I had to stay strong until I was able to see him.


	25. Chapter 25

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE  
It was early in the morning. Three thirty. Michonne and I were loading stuff up in the back of Tyler's old car. Boxes of my stuff that I had packed. A little less than 24 hours ago, I was planning on staying. But now, I was running away to meet my lover. And I was thrilled.

We packed the last boxes in the back and left a note in the courtyard for Beth, telling her I would be back soon and I just needed to clear my head.

"You ready?" Michonne asked, opening her car door.

"Yeah, just... Give me a second." I walked over to all the graves. There was one, tiny little cross over one of them. I sat down beside it, knowing that a few feet below it, my baby was laying there, wrapped up in a blanket. What a shitty way to do that. I wanted to dig him/her up and hold it just one more time.

But, I'm sure that I would be able to have another kid one day. I didn't want to rush into it. I would probably wait years before I wanted another one. Because right now, all I wanted was that one.

I leaned up and kissed the cross, whispering my goodbyes. I stood up and dusted the dirt off my jeans. I had changed from my sweats to my old normal: jeans, my boots, a t-shirt, and a light jacket.

I walked back to the gate, giving her the thumbs up. She started the car, and eased it up the gate. I opened it and she pushed it past. I quickly closed the gate behind me, running and jumping in the passenger seat. I put my seat belt on and looked at her.

"Let's go," I told her, looking back at the little grave. Even if Daryl and I weren't separated, I would want to leave this place. I wouldn't be able to live just a few feet from his/her grave. I would never be able to get over losing it.

We passed trees and walkers and miles and miles of road. We eventually drove into town, stopping in a random parking lot.

"Daryl probably won't get here until mid afternoon, so you can get some rest if you'd like." she reclined her chair, laying down. She curled up in a ball, so I did the same.

But, I didn't go to sleep for awhile.I thought of how I was going to tell Daryl that his baby was dead. That I failed and had somehow done something wrong. Would he still love me? Would he blame me like I blame myself? I wanted to get out of the car and run away. Not towards the prison, but anywhere but here. Just keep running. I didn't want to confront Daryl.

I was still worried about wether or not he'd cry or just get pissed, or neither, when I finally fell asleep. I was emotionally exhausted, and I had just given birth to a four month baby. So, I had a pretty great excuse.

When I woke up, light was hitting my face. From outside, the sun was high in the sky, meaning that it was around noon. I stretched, looking over at Michonne who was still sleeping. I gently shook her.

She slowly opened her eyes and looked around. "Damn, I slept for a long time."

She pulled the chair back to it's normal position, and so did I. Michonne silently started the car and we were back on the road.

When we pulled up to the department store, Daryl's motorcycle was already parked in the front, and my heart started beating faster.

Michonne got out first, walking up to a stray Walker and cutting it's head off. I stayed in the seat, gripping my gun. The same gun Daryl gave me the first time I left the prison.

Daryl came out, wearing the same shirt he left in and I prayed that it had at least been washed. He aimed his how at a little pack of zombies and shot at them, one after the other.

He looked at Michonne and said something I couldn't hear. She said something back and his face shifted into confusion. I wondered why he couldn't see me, and remembered the tinted windows.

I unbuckled my seat belt and opened the door. His head snapped over at the sound, and I stepped out of the car.

"Kyra?" he asked, confused. He dropped the bow and I ran to him.

As soon as I was in his arms we were kissing. I jumped up, wrapping my legs around his waist. I couldn't believe I was able to touch him, able to kiss him. My hands were in his hair, pulling him to me. It was like neither one of us wanted to let go, so we didn't.

Eventually, we had to catch our breaths and I some how managed to untangle myself from him.

"Why are you here?" he asked, pulling me away, but not letting go of me.

"I couldn't stand being there anymore. So, Michonne and I left early this morning." I answered him, my hands on his arms. I missed his so damn much.

"What about the baby-"

"We need to talk," I interrupted, looking at Michonne then back to Daryl.

"Oh. Ok."

We went inside the store and Daryl put a shelf in front of the door. My stomach twisted at the thought of me having to tell him that it died.

"So, let's talk." he said, sitting down and patting the seat next to me. I sat down, facing him and sighed.

"A few nights ago, I woke up with this really bad pain, so I went to see Hershel about it. He said it could be nothing, or it could it could be signs of an early miscarriage-"

"But, it could still be nothing, right?" he asked, worry on his face. I wanted to cry all over again.

"Daryl, let me finish," I said quietly. "A few nights later, last night, I woke up to blood everywhere. And I had miscarried. Hershel tried, but by the time I got to him, it was too late." Tears were pricking around my eyes, but I didn't let them fall. It was his turn to mourn.

"So, the baby died?" he asked, sounding almost angry.

"Daryl," I reached for him, and he grabbed me, pulling me close to him.

"So, they buried it?" he whispered against my head. I nodded, unable to talk.

"It's ok, we can always try again, right?" He asked. Was that supposed to be comforting?

"Daryl, you don't understand. You weren't there." I pulled away from him so I could look at him face to face. "I had to give birth to a dead baby. A baby I knew would have no chance of me ever getting so open it's eyes or cry. I don't even know what gender it was! All I know is that I was four months pregnant, and I held my dead baby. I didn't even get to see what it looked like. It was wrapped up in a sheet!" I was crying now, pissed off. "I don't want to try again! I don't want that to happen to me again. I can't do it. I considered jumping off the top of the prison the first time. If I have to go through it again, I will kill myself!"

He shrank back from me, looking so confused and heart broken.

"I'm sorry, Kyra," was all he said.

I hated myself. I didn't mean to make him feel bad for me. I was supposed to be the one to comfort him when ever I told him. Instead, he was apologizing.

"Are you ok?" I asked, wiping my own tears away.

"I was wanting to name it Cade if it was a boy."

My heart broke in two. I put my hand on the side of his face and with the other hand moved his hair back.

"I wish there was something I could do, honestly. But there isn't. I was so scared, Daryl, and all I wanted was for you to be there holding my hand. And then I thought damn it, how am I going to tell Daryl I lost his child? I was more scared for you than for me. And I'm so so sorry, and in a few years, maybe even months, we can try again. But, I can't take another heart break for a long, long time, Daryl."

He nodded, looking up at the ceiling.

"I found a place for us to stay." He announced, looking back at me.

"Seriously?" I asked, excited we weren't on that topic anymore.

"Yeah. Its a cabin. But, there's other people there. A family of three. I told them I was alone. I'm not sure what they'll say to you being there-"

"Michonne's coming too, right?" I asked, looking over at her. She was looking at a rack of clothes and stuffing stuff in a bag.

"If she wants, of course. She's part of our family." he answered. Good answer. I smiled and leaned up to give him a quick peck. He responded by turning his cheek. I guess he was upset about the miscarriage. I was too. But it didn't stop me from being hurt. I just lost my baby. I didn't need to lose him.

"Well, if you have your stuff, we should go." he said, standing up.

"Wait," I grabbed him and pulled him back. He looked at the floor, not at me. That worried me really really bad.

"Twenty minutes ago you were all over me. Now, you won't even let me kiss you?" Damn it damn it damn it. No.

"Kyra, I can't right now, ok? I just- I don't know. I just don't want to be lovey and shit when I just found out my child died, and you actually had to give birth to it. That hurts me, ok? I want to blame someone, but there's no one to blame. And in all honesty, I know that if I'm not careful, I'll find myself blaming you. I don't want to do that, Kyra. So, just give me some time. Can you do that?" he was sarcastic. Mean. Rude. I wanted to cry. But I nodded.

"Yeah," I nearly whispered, walking over to Michonne and leaving him. I saw him kick a box out of the corner of my eye.

"You ready?" I asked, putting my hand on my hip.

"Yeah.. Are you ok?" she asked, looking back at Daryl. Who was now against a shelf, one leg bent up, one straight out, and his hands covering his face, head leaned back.

"Yeah. But, if he keeps this distance between us, I won't be."

"What'd you mean?" she asked, picking up a pair of jeans.

"He wants some distance right now. We just finished this fucking distance. The whole reason I left was so I could be with him, and he wants distance."

"Just give him some time. He's grieving. And you should be too. Not that I'm judging you for not being sad, I'm just saying that you're going to hold this in and sink into a depression. Those are damn hard to get out. So, grieve. It's normal. Nobody is expected to be strong all the time." She made it sound like being sad was a good thing.

"But I cry way too much already. You never cry, Daryl never cries, nobody cries. And I find myself crying all the time!"

She put her hand on my shoulder, smiling slightly. "Because when I'm upset, I go out and I rampage kill multiple walkers. Daryl blows his steam by having target practice and hitting stuff. Everyone has their own way of coping. You cry. It's normal."

I nodded looking over at him. If time is what he needed, time he'd receive.

"You guys ready?" Daryl asked, pulling himself together.

"Yeah," Michonne answered, grabbing her bag from the floor. "Where we headed?"

"I found a cabin about an hours drive from here. There's another family there. I'll introduce you two and see where it goes from there."

We walked outside. I debated on wether or not to jump in Michonne's car or get on the back of Daryl's bike. I looked at Michonne, who gave no hint. I stood in between the two, confused as hell.

"You coming?" Daryl asked, starting up his bike. He handed his jacket, and I took it, looking back at Michonne. She smiled and got in her car.

I shrugged the jacket on, it being way too big for me, and got on the back of his motorcycle. I pressed my face against his back as we drove, my arms around his waist. God, I missed this. I missed him.

I couldn't wait for us to be normal again. To be able to tease each other and share old stories. I wondered if it would ever be like that again, or if he would keep this emotionally distance thing going until we just fell apart. We survived nearly two months apart. Surely we can get through this. He's going to have to realize I'm grieving too, right?

Michonne was always a few yards behind us, and nothing seemed familiar. Soon everything blended together and I peeked over his shoulder to see that we were going over eighty miles an hour. One wrong turn and we'd end up in a tree somewhere. And I wasn't wearing a helmet. Like it would really help if we wrecked.

The ride passed by quickly, only because I didn't want it to. I wanted to be able to sit here, in Daryl's jacket, and hold him. I couldn't do that once we got there. Because then he'd want more distance between us that I wouldn't be able to take.

We turned on a gravel road and I felt incredibly uneasy on the sharp turns with his fast driving. There was always some major drop off a few feet away, and I'm sure with me being pressed against him, Daryl could feel my heart ready to pop out of my chest.

But soon the gravel road turned into a drive way with trees on either side and half a mile later, we were in front of a fence. He nodded his head and I got up, opening and closing the fence as Michonne and Daryl pulled in.

They turned off their vehicles, and Michonne slowly got out. Daryl walked up to her and they began whispering as I walked closer. She eventually angrily laid her sword down in the back of the car, cursing.

Daryl walked up to me and we three made our way to the porch when the door bursted open and out came a man.

He was sort of tall with dark hair and beady eyes. He was wearing a flannel shirt unbuttoned with a gray shirt underneath. His jeans fit him oddly and he had normal tennis shoes. But he looked off. Something about him gave me the creeps. I didn't like him.

"What the hell is this Daryl?" he asked, gesturing towards me and Michonne.

"Listen-" he held up his hands.

"No! You say you're going to get more food and you come back with two people! Strangers! I told you no guests!"

"But they're not strangers!" he pleaded.

"So, you know them?" the man asked, crossing his arms and looking Michonne up and down. "Who are they to you?"

"This is my wife, Kyra," my heart skipped a beat as he pulled me closer. Wife? "and this is Michonne, my sister. We're adopted." he added on the end when the guy looked at the obvious skin tone differences and crinkled his nose.

"I thought you said you were alone."

"I lied because I didn't know if I could trust you. But, I see that I can now. Please, don't send us packing. You're good people, Jack."

Jack. What a perfect name for such a creep. I didn't trust him. Daryl may, but I didn't like the looks of him.

"I don't know, Daryl. You've lied to me once-"

"To protect them! I swear, they won't use weapons until you can trust them, too. And you'll see that they're both loyal. I promise." he nearly begged.

Jack shifted from one foot to the other, his beady eyes looking back and forth from Michonne and me. His eyes resting more than once on parts they shouldn't be.

"Fine. But, I'll tell them like I told you, I will take you out if it comes to that."

He opened the door and we followed him inside. A woman and a little girl were playing a puzzle game in the floor when we walked in. The girl crawled in her moms lap when she saw us.

"This is Miriam, my wife, and our daughter Belle." he said curtly. "Guys, this is Kyra, Daryl's wife and..."

"Michonne," she answered for him, raising an eye brow and giving him that look.

"Michonne, his sister."

Miriam smiled, she seemed sweet. She was definitely pretty. She had short brown hair that barely reached her shoulders, brown doe eyes, and a wide, pretty smile. Was she with the creep out of desperation?

Belle was just as beautiful as her mother, having the same hair, except curly, and looking nothing like her father. She was absolutely adorable. It made my heart hurt a little.

"Kyra, you can sleep in Daryl's room with him, considering you're his wife I guess you'd want to, and Michonne, you can have the room by theirs. We can move Belle's stuff into our room upstairs. We have two beds up there, she she'll be fine."

We unpacked our things from the car and I put all my clothes next to Daryl's in the one chest that was in the tiny room.

The sun was already down by the time we were settled in and Daryl sat on the bed, pulling his shoes off.

"You ready for bed?" he asked, still not looking at me.

"Yeah, I'm just going to make sure Michonne's all right."

I left our room and knocked on Michonne's door, she opened it and led me into the small room. It was a little bigger than ours.

"You good?" I asked, standing by the doorway.

"Yeah, but between you, me, and the walls, Jack is a bit creepy."

"That's what I thought, too!" I announced, my eyes wide.

"Just, keep your knife handy. I know Daryl said no weapons, but I'm not going to walk around people I barely know and not at least have my pocket knife, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it. I'll have it on stand by if I need it. Night, Michonne."

"Night."

I closed the door behind me and quietly walked back to Daryl's room.

When I walked in, he was already in bed, his back to me. The covers were pulled up, but I could see he didn't have a shirt on.

I quickly took my boots off and replaced my jeans for sweat pants. I crawled in beside him, my back towards him. I wasn't sure how he'd react to me.

I closed my eyes, tried to go to sleep. Daryl shifted beside me, and turned. He pulled me close, putting one arm around me. I leaned back, smiling in the dark. I could deal with this for a little bit.

/

They big reunited scene! I think it could've been done a lot better, but I did the best I could. Thanks for all the followers and my precious, precious reviewers. You guys are simply amazing.


	26. Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX  
I watched Daryl play with Belle from the kitchen, showing her some game where she tried to move her hand before he hit it. She giggled every time his hand lightly hit hers, and he had this adorable smile. He would have been a great dad.

"He's good with kids," Miriam said, opening cans. I took one that she already opened and poured it into a pan. We were making supper while Daryl basically baby sat and Michonne and Jack were out getting supplies for the next day.

"Yeah, he is." I replied, adding salt and pepper to the vegetable soup we were making. Whenever Miriam started talking like that, it usually meant she was fixing to ask some question Jack wanted her to. So be could "learn more about the others". I couldn't stand that creep.

"Did you two ever try to have kids?" she asked, and there it was. Did he think Daryl and I sacrificed children to the walkers or something? God.

"Uh, sorta. I just kind of ended up pregnant." I shrugged and grabbed another can of carrots. I was trying to act nonchalant, but Miriam was like his puppet and that really annoyed me.

"So, what happened?" She was prying. But, at this point I couldn't care. The only thing Daryl and I had lied about was that I was his wife. And we basically were, we just hadn't made it official. Could any one now?

"I had a miscarriage. Actually, it happened a day before we came here." Maybe I shouldn't have added that bit of information, but eh.

"I'm so sorry," she laid her hand on my shoulder, giving me this sympathetic face. "How far along were you?"

"Four months," I didn't look at her, just took another can and poured it in. I lit the gas stove and set the pot down on it.

"Oh wow, that must've been hard." Duh, bitch, it was hard. I calmed myself down, maybe she didn't know what a four month miscarriage was.

"It was. But, there's nothing we could've done. So, crap happens." I set the wooden spoon down I was using to stir the soup and looked at her.

"How did Daryl take it?" she asked. Damn, she wasn't getting it that I wanted to drop the subject.

"Not well. We actually haven't talked that much since it happened. He's upset."

"At you?" Huh. A reasonable question. Maybe she wasn't a dumb ass after all. But, don't jump to conclusions Miss Kyra. Or as they think, Mrs. Dixon.

"I'm not sure. He's trying to find someone to blame, but there's no one, so the finger is fighting to not point at me." Did that just come out of my mouth? That sounded almost poetic. I ruined it with my inner monologue.

"I get it. It's normal to want to blame someone. Have you tried to talk to him?" What's a bigger word for prying? Mining? If so, she was mining.

"Yeah, kind of. He told me he just needed some space. So, I'm respecting that. When the times right, he'll talk." I hoped that would end that conversation. And it seemed to.

I cut potatoes as Miriam added stuff to the pot on the stove. I again watched Daryl, now letting Belle attempt to hit his hands. She gave up and started slapping his face.

I smiled, absentmindedly still cutting the potatoes. He stood up, and looked over at me, nodding slightly. I waved, and looked back down. How did things become so awkward between us?

It's been weeks since we've actually talked. Besides the usual goodnight and nod, we didn't communicate. We slept in the same bed, we ate meals together, and we hung out when we weren't doing chores. But how long would this emotional time apart last?

"So, how long have you two been married?" Miriam asked, taking the potatoes and putting them in soup. She put a lid on the soup and leaned against the counter.

"Not long," was all I knew how to answer. What weren't actually married. She gave me a weird look.

"He's kind of older than you, right?"

Obviously. I mean obviously. Maybe she was with Jack the creeper because she was too stupid to realize she could do better. Taking their daughter into consideration, they must've been together before people died left and right. So it wasn't like she thought he was the last person alive.

"Um, yes." I answered, my turn to give her a weird look. Dumb ass, dumb ass.

"How did you two... Come together?" This question, I've been asked a thousand times. I guess our age difference was quite large, and it was only natural for people to be curious. Curiosity also killed the cat. And Miriam seemed to be one of those girls who dressed up as a 'sexy cat' on Halloween. Coincidence? I think not.

"We just did. It's hard to explain. We both sort of fought it at first, to not hurt people-"

"Was he already married!?" she asked, this god awful look on her face.

"No! No, of course not! I'm not a home wrecker!" I yelled, making Daryl and Belle look over at us. This chick was really something else.

"Oh, I wasn't implying-"

"We sure you weren't, Miriam," Daryl stepped into the kitchen, Belle holding his finger. I shot him a look. "Kyra just jumps to conclusions, sometimes."

"Yeah. Sorry." I said tightly, walking out of the room on to the back porch. Damn, that was so wrong.

I walked off the porch down to the creek, where we got our water. I sat down on the rocks, very pissed off.

I heard a crunch and then Daryl was beside me.

"What the hell was that?" he asked sitting down. Ok, now he doesn't want space. Seriously? Talk about timing.

"What I want to know is why you felt the need to tell Miriam I was a hot head." I asked, turning to look at him. Obviously it wasn't in those words, but, he might as well have.

"Kyra, these people are letting us stay here until we find our own place. We don't need you arguing and them freaking out and get us kicked out. Jack just let Michonne have her sword. There's a reason you don't have your gun yet." He should start praying. Because one more sassy comment and I was probably going to get the kitchen knife and cut him.

"Yeah, because he knows that I know he's a creep and the first time he tries to put his grabby hands on me, I'll put a bullet in his head," I said bluntly. I gave myself a mental high five. Good job.

He sighed loudly, giving me this stern look. I wanted to hit him. But at least I was getting more than a nod.

"Kyra, I know why you're upset and uncomfortable here, but you can not keep acting like this," he argued.

"I really don't think you know why I'm upset," I argued back. He was about to get bitch slapped.

"Because you had to leave the prison, and you don't really feel uncomfortable around Jack, and-"

"No. That's not why I'm 'upset', Daryl. I'm upset because you refuse to talk to me. I miss you. Like really bad. And you're there, but you're not. I know that you were mourning for the loss of our baby, but I was too. I needed to talk about it while you needed space. This 'space' you've needed has lasted way longer than necessary. You know, I was seriously debating taking my own life! But I told myself, Daryl wouldn't be able to take that and the loss of his baby. And when you said you needed space, I was willing to give you that. But, Daryl, you have to talk to me. Please," I was nearly begging him. It didn't seem to really phase him. God, he used to tell me stuff. Why couldn't he now?

"I'm just not ready, Kyra! We can talk about anything you want to, but I refuse to talk about the baby! Not yet." he went from yelling to this low sad voice. It made me want to cry for him. How did he do this to me? Seriously, how? Because I needed to learn how to do that and use it against him.

"Ok, Daryl. But eventually, we have to talk about this. Because you just keep getting distant. I can't deal with that. I didn't want you to lose me, and in the process I lost you." I was gentle, but firm. It was what he needed. Well, he needed to be held under this water for waiting so long to talk to me. But, he was talking.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen, I just feel like if I talk to you, you'll bring up the baby, and I can't." Did he forget that we used to talk before I found out I was pregnant? No? Well, damn.

"I understand, and I promise not to bring up until you do." I wanted to talk about it now, but he wasn't ready. I could respect that.

"So, are you going to go in and apologize to Miriam?" he asked, a small smile on his face.

"Hell no." I said with a straight face. Daryl laughed and put his arms around my shoulders, pulling me closer. I leaned against him and rested my head against his shoulder. Finally. Finally, we were doing this again. Being us. It was beautiful.

"I'm glad we're doing this again." I told him, my hands wrapping around his torso.

"Doing what?" he asked, looking down at me. He had this playful look on his face that was possibly the sexiest thing ever. If there wasn't a child like half a football field away, I probably would've jumped him right then.

"Being us," I leaned up and kissed him, wondering how our fights always ended in this. We were the most bipolar couple ever.

"Come on, I'd say suppers ready," he said, standing up. He stuck out his hand and I grabbed it, pulling me to my feet. We walked hand in hand back to the cabin and I felt like I was fourteen again.


	27. Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN  
"That guy is a creep, Kyra." Michonne told me as we were walking around the gate Daryl helped build, making sure there were no walkers.

The fence went all the way around the cabin, even blocking in part of the creek where it was shallow enough, going about half a mile in the woods. It hadn't been doubled yet, but soon Daryl and Jack were going out to get more fence from the nearest place that had some in stock, and build another layer. Just like at the prison, minus the barbed wire at the top. Which we'd probably do soon, too.

"I know, trust me. As soon as he came out of that door I didn't trust him." I told her, kicking my shoes off so I could cross the creek without getting my feet wet.

"There's just something off about him. You should've seen the way he acted while we were in that truck of his. By the way, I now know why he insisted on taking it instead of the car. It's tiny. You have to sit side by side. At least in the car you were able to have a console in between you and the creep." she continued, also taking her shoes off. "And what the hell is wrong with that Miriam girl?"

"I don't know. I think she may just be one of those fruity people. She accused Daryl and I of committing adultery because of our age difference. With out even thinking. Just bam. If Daryl wouldn't have stepped up, I probably would have bitch slapped her." We crossed the creek, and even though it was getting considerably warmer, it was ice cold. I nearly fell trying to quickly cross it.

"Seriously?" Michonne asked, giving me that look, "Why?"

"She asked the age old question of the age difference between us and how our relationship started, and when I said we tried to keep it at a distance at first to not hurt anyone- bam! 'Was Daryl married!?'" I mimicked her fluttery voice, causing Michonne to snort.

"Damn. They're some odd people." we finally crossed the creek. We sat down and wiped our feet in the grass, letting it dry. We put our socks and shoes back on and stood up, heading past the tree line.

"You know, it really pisses me off that I only get my knife and you get a damn sword," I complained, holding the little thing in my hand. Jack just recently let me have the knife. Why the hell he couldn't trust me with my gun, I didn't know.

"In all honesty, Kyra, I'd say he's planning something. When he's around, don't you ever not have that knife ready. Especially if Daryl or me are away. I'm serious." And she was. She was like the older sister I never had. Michonne was extremely over protective of me, and I figured she must think the same of me. I loved the little family we three had.

"I already do. Daryl thinks I'm ridiculous, but I think he's just still hurt from Rick and trusting people too easily. He doesn't have very good character judgement right now." I stuck up for him, even though I wanted to shake him and tell him what a creep Jack really was.

"I guess it'll take him doing something to open Daryl's eyes. Let's hope it doesn't get to that. I can take Daryl being naive as long as Jack keeps his distance from both of us." We passed a walker and Michonne quickly executed it. That's the first one I've seen in three days. But, eventually it'll get worse. Like the prison.

"I already told Daryl that Jack wouldn't give my gun back because he knew I'd put a bullet in his head if he touched me. Daryl knows it too. He's just not admitting it. He wants to keep this little thing perfect for as long as possible." I wasn't trying to dog Daryl or anything, but he wasn't usually like this. He didn't trust people easily. So, why Jack?

"Speaking of Daryl, how are you guys?" she asked, knowing he wasn't talking to me a few days before.

"We're better. He's talking. Still refuses to talk about the baby. But, I'm just gonna give him as much time as needed. I'm not going to push it. If I do, I'll push him away. I can't do that." I said simply, the fence was starting to curve. Now the other side of the fence and then lunch.

"Forgive me, but, have you two...?" She began but didn't finish, looking at me from the corner of her eye. I blushed.

"Uh, no. No, we haven't gotten to that yet. It's too quite at night. I feel like everybody would hear us, and it would just be awkward. And, we've barely kissed. I don't know," it was hard to explain, but Michonne nodded, seeming to get it.

"You know, if you two weren't so loud, you'd be able to get away with. But I'd say you'd tear the whole cabin apart." she joked, grinning at me. My face was purely red now. Had she heard us before?

"What..?" I asked, looking down at the ground. Awkward.

"You two thought you were so sneaky, but I heard you a few times. Better be glad I was the only one." she wasn't grinning, she was smirking. She made odd moaning noises, tilting her head back and rolling her eyes. My jaw dropped.

"Oh my god, that's embarrassing," my eyes were wide and I finally looked right at her. "I didn't think we were loud.."

"You were.. In all honesty, I never knew who the other one was in your cell. I figured it was one of those guys you came with. I was pretty shocked to find out it was Daryl. But, whatever suits your fancy."

"Shut up," I nudged her playfully, but I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. That's probably the most embarrassing thing I've ever heard.

"Wait, just one more question," she grinned, stopping. She had this playful look in her eyes that I'd never really seen. I braced myself, cringing, "is he big?"

I couldn't take it. I just started laughing, and eventually she did too. We laughed for a solid five minutes before we regained our composure. I wiped a tear from my eye and shook my head. I started walking again.

"You didn't answer the question!" she hollered, catching up to me.

"I don't intend to." It was my turn to smirk. My face was still red, I could feel it. I was trying to sound confident and I couldn't play the part very well. She poked me in the side.

"Just tell me. You can trust me." she was basically begging. I squirmed a little bit and let out a long dramatic sigh.

"Ugh... Yes." I answered, looking up at her from the corner of my eye. She started laughing again, doubling over. I kicked her in the butt and kept walking.

"So, he pleases you ok?" she asked, still laughing.

"Michonne, you said only one more question! I'm not answering that one!" I was playing around, but damn someone just threw me in an oven cause it was like 1000 degrees hotter.

We finished our route and went inside, Michonne still cracking up from our awkward conversation. As we walked in I gave her a warning look, that she smirked at and kept laughing.

"Hey, how'd it go?" Mrs. Perfect Housewife asked as we entered the living room.

"Great. Only one Walker today." Michonne answered her, sitting down on the couch. I looked around, seeing Belle, Miriam, and Jack. But no Daryl.

"Where's Daryl at?" I asked, leaning against the wall.

"He's taking a nap before lunch," Jack answered looking at Miriam. "How's that going, by the way?"

She just got up and went to the kitchen. Michonne and I shared looks of disgust. What a freaking pig.

I walked over to her, whispering. "Will you be all right if I go lay down with Daryl for a little bit? I don't think he'd try to pull anything with Miriam here, but if you don't feel comfortable I won't go."

"I can hold my own. But, you can only go on one condition." she was smiling. Goodness, what now.

"Yeah?" I asked, ready to cringe.

"You guys have to be quiet." she stifled a laugh and I glared at her.

"I'm out," I lightly hit her and walked out the room, into my room.

Daryl was already lightly snoring on the bed, the covers pushed back so his chest was exposed. I kicked my shoes off and took my pants off. Who the hell sleeps in pants?

I crawled beside him, covering myself up and laying my head on his chest.

"Kyra?" he asked, stirring.

"Who the hell else would it be?" I asked, craning my neck to give him a look. He looked good half asleep with his hair a mess.

"Shut up," he laughed lightly, putting an arm around me.

/

Carol got sent away. I did a victory dance. Whoop whoop! Review, beautiful people! Review!


	28. Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT  
I woke up and stretched, the sun not even coming up yet. I rolled over and looked at Daryl. His mouth was half open and he had twisted since we first laid down. He looked so adorable like that. Too bad I was going to wake him up.

I gently shook him, not doing any real damage as he just rolled over and grunted.

"Daryl," I whispered by his ear, putting my hand on his shoulder, "whatever you're dreaming of, I can top it."

His eyes fluttered open and he looked at me out of the corner of his eye.

"What?" he asked turning to look at me. So, that's how you get a guy to wake up. Noted.

I crawled on top of him, straddling his waist. He was awake now. I smiled mischievously, bending down to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around my waist and started kissing me back. I deepened the kiss, enjoying the intimacy. We still hadn't had sex and we barely had time to really fool around anymore.

He rolled over, surprising me, and pushed himself on top, still kissing me. I tangled my hands in his hair, pulling him down. He let out a low, short, husky moan. Damn. That was hot. I ran my hand over his back, feeling his scars. His hands went under my shirt and ran over my stomach, leaving cold chills.

I reminded my self of the task at hand and pulled away from him, nearly killing myself in the process. He looked at me one eye brow raised and it was really mother effin hard to not say forget it, let's just do it all day.

"We have morning shift," I whispered, still a bit husky from being Daryl's alarm clock. He was still on top of me, lips pursed. Ugh, he looked so good.

"Damn," he whispered back, "It's not like they won't be up for another.." he peaked out our window, "three or so hours. We can do our patrol in less than an hour. I'd say that would give us plenty of time.."

I sat up, biting my lip. I would never be able to live it down if Michonne heard us. And it would be even worse if I woke up Jack or Miriam. Or their kid. But it had been so long...

"I don't know, Daryl. I think we're kind of loud.." I felt so embarrassed to say it, but better to be embarrassed in front of Daryl than to have to hear about it from Michonne.

"How would you know?" he asked, his hands still under my shirt. And now I have to tell him that Michonne has actually heard us before. Not seen us, heard us. I don't know which one would have been more embarrassing. I would almost prefer her walking in on us then hearing us.

"Well, I've... I've been told that we're kind of loud.." I felt my face getting red. Ugh.

"Like, our moans?" he asked blatantly. Oh my god. Seriously?

"Yes, like our.. moans. Either way, we're too loud and I'm not going to do it with a little girl right above us." I playfully pushed him off me, standing up and taking my sweat pants off. It was time to get ready for the day and we still had patrol.

"Kyra, are you avoiding sex?" he asked sarcastically, grabbing my pants I was about to put on from my hands. Great. Now he had my pants.

"No! Daryl, give me my pants!" I demanded, holding my hand out.

"Not until you admit you're avoiding sex. Am I bad?" Daryl asked. Dear lord, he wasn't being sarcastic. He really thought it was because he was bad in bed. Oh my goodness.

"Daryl, no. You're not 'bad'!" I threw up the air quotes, getting irritated. "You're wonderful. Can I have my pants back?"

"No. I need to know why. We haven't had sex since before I left the prison. That was five months ago." He looked almost hurt. If he knew how badly I wanted to do him every time he gave me a look, maybe then he'd know it's purely because I didn't want to do it and be heard.

"Because we're freakishly loud. So, maybe one day when we'll be alone for a good two hours, you can take me wherever the hell you want. But as of now, we have to go on patrol." I crossed my arms. I really needed those damn pants.

"Fine," he gave in, throwing my pants down at my feet. He sat down on the bed and I wasn't sure if it was defeat on his face or if he really thought I wasn't attracted to him.

I left the pants in the floor and walked over to him, sitting in his lap, my legs wrapped around his waist. Here goes to restoring a mans pride.

"Daryl, you know that I love sex with you. And you know that if given the chance, I would kiss you from top to bottom. From here," I laid my index finger on his temple, "to here," I slid my finger down, making a trail across his face and stopping at his jaw bone. I continued, stopping at various places along his neck, shoulders, and chest. "And here," I leaned up, whispering in his ear as my finger landed on his hip and, then a bit more down south. He raised his eyebrows, not used to me being so, erm, playful.

"Well, when you put it that way, why don't we just find ourselves a little get away place. I'm sure there's a hotel less than an hour from here." he grinned and I rolled my eyes, getting off of him.

"You're a horny thing, huh?" I joked, picking my pants up from the floor. I stepped into them, pulling them up and buttoning them.

"It's your fault. You shouldn't wake me up by being a tease." he stood up, putting his clothes on. We dressed in silence, feeling our way through the dark.

"So, can we talk about why you really don't want to have sex?" he asked, blocking the doorway. I looked at him confused. Did he not get what I just told him.

"What's the real reason?" I asked, figuring he obviously knew more about me than me.

"It's because of the baby, right? We haven't had sex since you found out you were pregnant." He crossed his arms. I guess he felt pretty good about himself right now.

"Daryl that's not... Well, it's part of that, yeah." I gave in, thinking that maybe he'd open up and start talking about the baby. And because it really was part of the reason.

"Is it because you're afraid of getting pregnant again? Because I can go out and get some form of protection. If you're not ready for that-"

"That's not why, Daryl.." I pinched the bridge of my nose, surprised that he was actually willing to wear a condom. Wait, no I wasn't.

"Then talk to me!" He threw his arms in the air. Walking over to me, he held my face in his hands, looking me in the eyes. Seriously, Daryl? Seriously?

"Daryl, it's about you not talking to me about the baby. Not the other way around. I don't want to open up if you're not going to. And yes, the pun was intended." Another mental high five for Kyra!

He closed his eyes, sighing loudly, and opened them again. "So I'm cock blocked until I talk about the baby?" he asked, and I stifled a life, trying to keep a straight face for his sake. He let go of my face, looking tired. The smile left my face. Time to be serious.

"What's there to say? It died, I was sad, I needed someone to blame. I wanted to blame you really bad, but I didn't." I took his hand, holding it limply in mine. "I got over it and I didn't know how to tell you because you'd want me to pour my heart out and tell you my feelings about the baby, but really, I just want to be a dad. It doesn't have to be soon. It doesn't have to be for awhile, but I want kids. I didn't think I did until I found out that I was going to be a dad. And now that's all I really want." He pulled me close, wrapping one arm around my waist and one hand held my chin up. "And sex. I want that, too." he said quietly.

So, it was out on the table. He just wanted to be a dad. And sex. With Daryl Dixon, never forget the sex.

"Ok," I said quietly, hugging him. I pulled away a moment later and walked out the door. It was time to do the patrol, past time really. I picked up my little knife from the drawer I always kept it on at night.

It was a little chilly, but nothing I couldn't handle. I didn't bother getting a jacket and stuck to my jeans boots and an old graphic T-shirt that was a few sizes too big. Daryl came out a few minutes later, sleeveless shirt on as normal. I would nag him for it, but those arms looked so good, who could?

We walked around the yard, not seeing any, and made our way to the creek. I dreaded this part. We both sat down and took our shoes off, rolled our pants up, and hesitantly put our toes in the water.

"This sucks," Daryl complained halfway across. "We need to build a bridge or something."

"I second that motion," I agreed, tripping. Daryl grabbed my arm, waiting until I was steady before we continued walking.

We got out of the creek as the sun slowly made it's way up the sky. It was pretty. And I reached over and laced my fingers with Daryl's as we walked. It would almost feel normal if we weren't carrying weapons and checking for walkers.

I was happy now. He finally talked. I guess he was happy too. He knew he was going to be able to not talk about it now. And I knew he wanted to be a dad.

And one day, I would let him. But not for a long long time.


	29. Chapter 29

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE  
"Don't go?" I asked, my hand holding a wad of Daryl's shirt, tugging on it like a little kid.

"Kyra, I have to. You can stay here and help Miriam out. You know she could use an extra hand with the house." he tried to reason, looking back at Michonne who was waiting inside her car.

"Why am I the housewife?" I asked, sticking my bottom lip out. My hand went under his shirt, just a little bit. Not enough so Michonne could see, but enough that he got what I was trying to say. "You could stay here, and I can take care of you instead of the house."

"Don't tease me, Kyra," he chuckled, grabbing my hand and pulling it out from under his shirt. "We need to leave so we can get back in time for supper. You know how cranky Michonne gets when she's hungry," he joked.

"Yeah, she's the one that gets cranky." I said sarcastically, pushing my hair back. I needed a hair cut.

"She really will if I don't hurry up." he bent down and kissed me on the forehead. I crossed my arms. I didn't even get a real kiss?

"That's the kiss I get?" I asked playfully, trying to be as stubborn as possible.

"If you act like a kid, I'll treat you like a kid, kid." he responded, walking to the car, using my old nickname. Yup. I'm gonna light all his clothes on fire while he's gone. Wait, he could care less. I'm the only one who actually makes him change... I would just be hurting myself. Damn it.

I waved to him and Michonne as they drove out of the driveway, leaving me with Miriam, Belle, and Jack, the perfectly creepy family. I closed the gate behind them. I didn't want to go back inside, so I decided to do a quick patrol.

I circled around twice, about a three mile journey in all. And considering I leisurely walked, it took me about an hour and half. Michonne and Daryl should be back in about another hour. Thank goodness.

I walked to the house, dreading having to deal with the weirdos inside for another hour with out Daryl. I didn't understand why I couldn't go on raids with him. I guess because last time I ended up being violated by four walkers.

I sat on the couch with Belle, watching her draw a picture. It was a pretty pink and yellow blob. I'm sure it was supposed to be some person or maybe it was a flower? Either way it was cute.

She was the perfect little girl. She was absolutely adorable, as sweet as could be, and liked to sing to people. Her fifth birthday was coming soon and Miriam was freaking out. There wasn't really anything we could do for it.

I eventually got up and started helping Miriam with cleaning. I cleaned the bathroom while she cleaned the living room. We cleaned our own rooms, and then it was down to the kitchen.

"I'll wash the dishes if you do the rest?" I bargained, not wanting to have to sweep again.

"Are you sure? There's a lot of dishes," Miriam asked.

"Yeah, I can tackle it." I reassured her, grabbing one of the jugs of water we kept from the creek. I poured it in a pan and set it on the stove to boil for dishwater.

By the time I even got the dishes started, Miriam, Jack, and Belle had gone down to the creek to play. I didn't mind. I liked being alone.

I washed the dishes, starting with cups. I liked dishes because they helped me think. I could focus on what I needed to get done in my life. I had a plan a few years ago. But, I don't think I'm getting accepted into college anytime soon, and I don't think anyone needs a physical therapist anymore. So, I needed a new life plan.

Plan number one: Marry Daryl. Not the whole suit and white dress thing. I just wanted us to sneak off and say cheesy vows to each other. Then get drunk off our asses and celebrate. It wouldn't be hard. And we could probably do it while we were here. But, Miriam didn't believe in alcohol. So, showing up drunk on our 'honeymoon' may cause a problem.

Plan number two: find a place away from the Miriam and Jack. This place was ok for now, but I wanted Michonne, Daryl, and I to have a place of our own. I didn't have much to choose from, but Daryl kept sneaking off to look and I thought eventually he'd probably find a place and we could leave. That'd be great.

Plan number three: have a kid. I didn't want to bring a kid into this world really. But, I wanted to make Daryl happy and he wanted a kid. So, I'd try to have a kid. I was ecstatic about the previous one, so I'm sure I'd love the next one. I was just scared. If we ever had to run, who knows what would happen.

Plan four: don't get eaten. I didn't think there was a cure, or that'd be my plan four. So, I'd stick with keeping me and my little family alive.

There was a creek from the door opening and footsteps. They drug me back from my thoughts to reality. I knew it was Jack by the sound his shoes made. I tried not to cringe. Why was he in here?

"Hey," he said, and I knew he was a few feet behind me. I kept washing the dishes, looking for a knife in the soapy water.

"Hey," I said back, attempting to be friendly. I had to stay on good terms with him, or Daryl would be pissed. But it didn't stop me from continuing my search for a knife. I just kept picking up spoons.

"Daryl and Michonne are out on a raid," he acted nonchalant, "and Miriam just took Belle for a walk in the woods. The way Belle walks, they probably won't be back for a good thirty minutes." I didn't like where this was going. Why couldn't I find that GDed knife!?

"Yeah, I guess," was all I said, throwing a bunch of spoons and forks in the other side of the sink.

"I figured we could use that time to talk," he said in his weird accent that I couldn't exactly pinpoint. But, it was an odd, slimy voice.

"Talk about what, Jack?" I asked, closing my eyes over the sink and gripping the counter. He was pissing me off.

"I know you don't like me, Kyra. It's kind of sad, because I really like you." he was closer than before. But, I didn't hear him move?

"I like you just fine, Jack." I clenched my jaw. My heart was racing and if I had to stab this guy, I would. Unfortunately, my knife was in my boot. Because Miriam didn't like weapons in the house. It would be hard to get that untangled in time to stab this guy in the stomach and/or heart.

"Kyra, you should stop those lies. I know you've lied to me a few times, and I don't appreciate that. So, we should be honest with each other."

His hands were on my waist.

"Get off me," I whispered between closed teeth. I was ready to vomit.

"I don't think so, Mrs. Dixon. Because I know that you lied. I have very good people judgement skills."

I spun around, pushing him away from me. "I said get those filthy hands away from me." My fist were clenched shut, ready to explode into his nose if needed. He raised his eyebrows, it didn't seen to affect him.

"You better control that temper. This is my land. All I have to say is that I felt like I couldn't trust you and kick Daryl out. I'd say that would hurt your so called 'marriage', wouldn't it?" he put little air quotes around marriage. So, he figured it out? How?

"So, you're threatening me?" I asked, beyond pissed now.

"No, Kyra. I'm bargaining." He walked closer, cornering me between the two bars. "I'm offering you a place to stay: a roof over your head, three meals a day, a room for you and your lover. All you have to do is give me something that I want." His hands were on me again. He leaned in, mouth slightly open. I was frozen. His mouth landed on mine, and his hands were unbuttoning my pants. I didn't know what to do.

As his hands were pulling down my zipper, my brain connected and I reacted. I opened one of the drawers, pulling out a butcher knife. I held the tip to his throat, feeling like a slightly violated bad ass.

"Well, I'll bargain with you. Don't fucking touch me and I'll let you keep your jugular?" I backed him up, his hands were held up in surrender. He chuckled. I wanted to go ahead and cut his throat anyway.

"I was just trying to be friendly, Kyra."

There was the sound of car doors and Jack lifted an eyebrow. "They're home awful early. I'm gonna go play with my family now. I'll see you around, Kyra."

He disappeared through the back door as Michonne and Daryl entered the front. I quickly threw the knife down and fixed my pants, embarrassed.

"We decided to only hit one store tonight," Daryl said as he sat down on the couch. "You ok?" he asked, looking at me through the half wall that separated the kitchen and living room.

"Yeah. I'm great," I said, going back to the dishes. I only had a few left, but my hands were shaking and I couldn't finish. I drained the water, figuring we wouldn't need that last cup any way.

Michonne gave me a weird look, and I smiled back at her, too cheery. I wasn't like that.

I went into the living room and sat down by Daryl, folding my hands in my lap so he wouldn't see them shake.

"Hey, I've got a surprise for you, tonight." he whispered in my ear, winking at Michonne. She gave a knowing smile.

"Oh yeah?" I asked, turning to look at him.

"Yeah. But, you have to wait until tonight."

I cuddled next to him, letting him play with my hair. We three just sat there, Daryl and I admiring each other and Michonne admiring the book she picked up while they were out there. Something about Abraham Lincoln.

Eventually the other family came in and we ate dinner. Then took showers and went to bed. (Thanks to the pump thing Daryl rigged up!)

I debated on telling Daryl or not about Jack's threats as I changed into a baggy T-shirt and crawled in bed next to him.

He scooted closer, wrapping an arm around me. I leaned back and he kissed the top of my head.

I was just about to muster up the courage when he scared the holy living hell out of me.

"Alright! They're probably asleep now. Let's go!"

"Go where?" I whispered, confused and pretty sure I just experienced a heart attack. I thought he was asleep!

"I told you I had a surprise!"

/

Oooo Jack! Bad bad boy.. Review lovelies! I crave them! Xx


	30. Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY  
He held a flashlight in one hand and had a back pack slung over his shoulder. Daryl held my hand as he led me through the woods, taking me to whatever surprise he'd mustered up. It was cute.

We were in the middle of the woods. Not close to the fence, just smack dab in the middle. He asked me to hold the flashlight and pulled a blanket from his bag, spreading it out on the ground.

"After you," he swept his arms across the air, half bowing. I giggled and sat down, that thirteen year old girl feeling settling back into me.

He sat down beside me, pulling out a bottle of wine. He popped it open.

"I thought you didn't like wine?" I asked, taking the bottle and downing a small sip. It was strong but sweet. Some kind of berry.

"I don't really, but I figured it was more romantic than me pulling out a six pack of bud light." he shrugged, taking the bottle from me.

"You're sweet," I leaned up and gave him a small kiss on the cheek.

I laid on my back, looking at the stars. It was a pretty night and the beginning of summer, so it was nice and warm. He laid down beside me, setting the bottle to the side. I set my head on his shoulder, lacing my fingers with his. He was so perfect.

"A penny for your thoughts?" he asked, with his free hand, he brushed hair out of my eyes. My hair always seemed to be getting in the way lately.

"I'm just thinking about how lucky I am," I confessed, closing my eyes.

"Lucky?" he asked, his thumb making small circles on the side of my hand.

"Yeah. You have to be lucky to find someone like you in a world like this," I explained, turning so I was on my side. He did the same, an arm resting on my hip.

"Huh. I guess I am pretty special." he joked, making me he hit. Never a serious moment. I leaned up, grabbing the bottle and taking a swig. I planned on finishing this tonight.

"So, let's think of a drinking game." I said, now that we were both sitting up.

"Alright, what should we do?" he asked, taking the bottle from me.

"I say we take a small guess on something about our past life, and if we're right, you have to take a drink." I suggested, thinking it sounded pretty good.

"Like what?" he asked.

"Like.. I bet you've stolen something," I said, leaning back on my hands.

"I have. So, do I take a drink?" he asked. I laughed, shaking my head yes. He did, tilting it all the way back dramatically.

"Ok, your turn." I told him, once again pulling my hair back.

"You were a book worm in high school?" he suggested. I took the bottle from him, taking a small sip. I wanted to see how drunk he got before I did.

"Alright," he said, wiggling his eye brows.

"Ok.. You knew how to hot wire a car?" I asked, playfully smirking. The only light was from the moon and stars. He picked a great night to do this. It was beautiful and there weren't any clouds out.

He grabbed the bottle from me, taking a small swig. "I took a small one because I only half knew how to. You were a virgin?"

I glared at him and took the bottle, pissed when I saw him smirk at me. "Well, you probably lost your virginity in high school!" I accused, sitting up on my heels.

He grabbed the bottle, smiling at me. It made me want to roll my eyes on one hand and kiss him on the other.

Before long, we finished the bottle, Daryl taking the last sip. He set the bottle down, sighing loudly.

"No more," he said, crawling over to me. I smiled, pretty drunk.

I met him half way, kissing him viciously in my drunken state. I guess I was slutty drunk. Did I care? At this point, no. Tomorrow, maybe. My hands blindly felt their way for his shirt and I pulled it off, throwing it on the ground next to us. My hands ran over his shoulders, his chest, his tight arms.

He was on top of me again, pulling the baggy shirt off and tugging at the oh-so-non-sexy underwear. I grabbed a fist full of his pajama pants, trying to tug them down unsuccessfully. He chuckled against me mouth, pulling the pants down him self.

Damn, was this the wine taking over or was I really this... Horny?

We were just in our underwear now, tangled with each other, mouths opening and closing against the others, bodies pressed to each other.

I pulled at his hair, clawed his back, bit his lip, craving so much more. I needed him more than ever. Like, now.

I woke up some time later, light coming from the trees, casting weird shadows on Daryl's torso. I slowly opened my eyes, realizing that I was quite cold. Then realizing it was probably because I didn't have clothes on.

I scrambled around, trying not to wake Daryl. I tried to find my shirt but I was buried somewhere in the pile of all my other clothes. So, I settled for Daryl's T-shirt instead. I blushed when I looked over to see he wasn't exactly covered up either.

I settled back down beside him, not caring if Miriam and Jack were wondering where we were. It was probably mid afternoon and we were hungover in the woods naked. It felt so irresponsible and so damn amazing.

Thirty minutes later, Daryl stirred, squinting at the sun.

"Piss," he grunted, covering his eyes with his arm. In doing this, he stretched out his torso. What a lovely sight.

"You'll find your pants on the ground," I joked, watching him realize he was still naked.

"Oh," was all he said, leaning up and grabbing them. He awkwardly put them on, obviously hungover.

"And you have my shirt?" he asked, looking down at me as I continued laying on the ground.

"Yup," I smirked, admiring the view.

"Is there any chance of me getting that back?"

"Nope." I answered. He shrugged, settling down beside me.

He produced a cigarette from his bag and lit it, laying his head back. I laid my head down on his chest, thinking I could definitely get used to this if it wasn't for the back ache.

He blew the smoke out and I watched it curl up and disappear.

We sat there in silence while he smoked, his other hand going up and down my back. Normally, I would be pissed at him for smoking. But, I was just enjoying the silence. No Belle running around singing, no Miriam judging from a distance, and no Jack staring at my chest. It was just Daryl, who was staring at clouds and smoking.

He finished his cigarette and flicked the bud out in the grass. Just the small movement drug my attention to his well toned arms. Damn, everything about him was perfect. How did I end up with him?

"We should get going pretty soon," he groaned, leaning up. I wanted to push him back and down and tell him to shut up. He was ruining it. I didn't want to go back.

"I guess," I sadly agreed, sitting up. I reached for my clothes, not wanting to change out of his shirt. But, I sadly did, throwing it at his feet. He picked it up and put it on. Bye hot Daryl. Hello clothed one.

He packed the bag, not looking like he really wanted to go either. He shouldered the back pack and picked up the empty wine glass.

"Damn, I have a headache," he complained as we walked. He walked up to the fence, chugging the bottle over it, and then we were back on track.

"Wanna make a deal?" I asked, lacing our fingers.

"Sure," he gave me an odd look, but I thought I seen a hint of a smile.

"You carry me the rest of the way and I'll hold the back pack." I grinned, knowing that it did sound stupid.

"Deal," he shook his head, handing me the back pack. I put it on my shoulders and jumped up on his back. I rested my head on his shoulder as we walked, surprised he hadn't complained yet.

We eventually reached the house and he set me down before going up the steps.

We walked through the door, hand in hand, to be greeted by a stern-faced Miriam, an angry Jack, and a smiling Michonne.

"Where've you been?" Jack asked, his arms were crossed and he was leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Out," Daryl answered just like a teenager did. Well, we were sort of acting like teenagers. Oh well. I was technically still one, unbeknownst to the creeps, who I'm sure thought I was in my twenties.

"Are you hungover?" Jack accused, making Miriam's mouth drop in shock. Oh jeez. Not Saint Jack and Mother Mary.

"No, I'm not-"

"Have you been drinking? I said no drinking in this house!" Jack yelled. Michonne rolled her eyes and went back to the book she was reading.

"We had morning patrol," Daryl said lamely. And yes he was obviously hung over. We both were.

"No, Michonne did." Jack pursed his lips. Why was he so pissed off? So what we were fooling around. We were married. Could we not do that?

"Actually, Jack," Michonne spoke up, putting her book down, "I asked Daryl to cover for me so I could rest a bit. I haven't been sleeping very well lately."

Jack looked confused and I was glad. I looked from Michonne to Jack again, hoping she wouldn't get in trouble too.

"Is this true?" he asked Daryl. He was looking for a good reason to throw Daryl out after I refused him. Too bad he couldn't find one.

"Yeah, sorry it ran a little late, we double checked," Daryl said lamely.

"Then where's your bow?" He asked, the obvious absence being a give away.

"I used my knife," Daryl said, thinking quickly. He pulled out his knife from the bag on my back. All Jack did was nod and wave his hand as if he was shooing flies away. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

I looked at Michonne, giving her a look that said 'what the hell', and she gave me one back. Daryl and I went into our rooms, laying back down. I was still tired from sleeping on the ground and so was he.

He wrapped his arms around me and I put my hand over his.

It was the first time we'd had sex in a long time. It was perfect in it's own little way. I guessed Daryl had a little help from Michonne with the romance part, but it was cute that he tried and put an effort into making me happy.

I couldn't really want more. Well, I could want the apocalypse so not happen, but I mean things I could actually control.

I fell back asleep while Daryl lightly snored in my ear. It was a comforting noise. Like how some people sleep with box fans or a baby goes to sleep with a lullaby, I fell asleep to his snoring. I wouldn't change that weird habit ever. Ever.


	31. Chapter 31

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE  
I woke up to an empty bed, which was odd since I normally woke up before Daryl. It felt weird to not have his body taking up way over half the bed or to have to put a pillow over his face to stop the loud, obnoxious snoring. It was quiet at first, but sometimes that thing was monstrous loud.

I sat up wiped sleep out of my eyes, yawning and looking over to see that Daryl had left a note on the dresser. I picked it up and read his messy scratch he called hand writing.

'Michonne and I decided to head out early. See you in a few hours.  
-Daryl'

I groaned, sitting the note down next to my knife. I didn't know when they had left but it was still pretty early and they probably wouldn't be back until noon.

I still didn't understand why they couldn't take me. For Christ's sake, I would just sit in the car if they were that worried. I was tired of just sitting around and being a housewife. I know that I really screwed up last time, but in all fairness, it was my first time and it wasn't my fault I was alone while at least two dozen walkers cornered me.

I got up and made the bed, still in just a T-shirt and underwear. The door was closed and nobody should come in, right? So, who the hell cares what I was in.

Needless to say, I was already pissed off that he didn't even bother to wake me up. These days, you go out and never come back. It happened way too often for him to not at least shake me. But, I guess he didn't want to have to deal with me begging him to stay and such. But, he was gone all the time. I just want to spend one day where we lay in bed and talk. Just an entire day of nothing but talking and kissing.

There was a knock on my door.

"Just a minute," I called, diving for a pair of sweats on the floor. Before I got to them, the door opened and Jack crept in.

"I see Daryl and Michonne went on a raid?" he asked, not bothering to pretend he wasn't staring at my bare thighs. I scrambled to jerk the pants on. Shit. My knife was across the room. I never felt safe around him unless my knife was with me.

"Uh, yeah." I answered, jumping in place to get the pants on. Bad move. Boobs. Oh, he doesn't mind looking at those either. Pervert.

"I see you didn't listen to my instructions," he sat on my bed, messing up the covers I just fixed. Forget the covers, why the hell was he on my bed in the first place? No.

"What instructions?" I asked, wanting to get to my dresser so I could have the knife. But in order to get to the dresser, I would have to step in front of him. Not happening. I eyed the room for anything else. Nothing. I needed an effin weapon.

"They weren't instructions, really. More like helpful hints. But, you ran off and slept with Daryl anyway." he shrugged, and I was even more confused than before.

"So, I'm not allowed to have sex with my husband?" I asked, my eyebrows raised. Attitude switched to on mode. He stood up and walked over to me, backing me into a corner. Shit. Attitude back off because I didn't want the hell beat out of me.

"Kyra, you do whatever I tell you to while you're under my roof," his hand connected with the wall behind me, the other one gripped my chin.

"I don't think so," I whispered, trying to keep a brave face. But it's hard to when you haven't even brushed your teeth yet and you're already being assaulted. Ya feel the pain?

"I do. I don't want you two having sex in my house!" he nearly yelled, his face only inches from mine. What the hell was wrong with this freak? He was crazy. Not like weird, greasy crazy like I thought earlier. But seriously crazy. No sex? Between spouses? Was this Carrie?

"We weren't. We were outside. There's no roof out there," I replied sarcastically, although I was scared shitless and wanted to cry. His jaw twitched and the hand that gripped my chin tightened. It hurt like hell, but I tried not to let it phase me. It did.

"Here's the deal, no fornicating with that.. Beast.. and you can stay." Was that supposed to be some sort of awesome deal? Because, although I really hated to break it to him, it wasn't.

"No." I whispered. In all honesty, I was a bit scared for my life. I knew he could do anything with me right now. I was under his power. The only thing I could do was refuse him. And even then, I was no where near strong enough to physically refuse him.

A hit. The side of my face stung, and I realized I'd just been hit. Slapped. I've never been hit by a man before. Ever. It was strange and it pissed me off. At the same time, I wanted to hide in a corner and cry.

I kneed him in crotch, watching for a split second as he doubled over before I tried to run for my knife. I was within reach, but he grabbed my ankle, pulling me back and making me fall. I landed with a thud, hitting my hip. It was like a bolt went through me, the pain sent tingles through my entire body. There would definitely be a large bruise.

I tried to kick him off, but he was on top of me, restraining my wrist my his hands. He straddled my waist and grinned. How could one be so evil? I really wondered how someone could actually force themselves on someone like this. How could you just decide to take something honorable from someone, just because you were stronger than them and felt like it.

He leaned up and grabbed the knife off of the night stand. For a moment, I thought he may stab me. My life would be over, just like that. All because I refused to not be intimate with my husband. But, he threw it under the bed, far out of my reach. Then I realized what he was going to do, and I wished he would have just slit my throat right then.

Jack put his hand over my mouth, shushing me as I screamed for Daryl. Like I was a little kid. He petted me. Literally petted my hair as he covered my mouth. I tried to bite him, but it was like he was crushing my mouth. There would be bruises there too, I was sure.

"He's not coming, sweet heart," the words oozed out of his mouth and I felt myself gag. He was a greaser. I wondered how many other people he did this to and decided I couldn't let this man have his way with me.

I watched in horror, unable to open my mouth out of shock, as he undressed, first himself, then forcefully undressed me. Taking his time, unbuckling his belt and slowly taking his shirt off. He was really enjoying himself.

Only half way through did I realize I was crying. Quick, hot tears that weren't going to stop soon. I wanted to beg for him to kill me, but I figured it would just make everything worse. He'd really feel dominant over me then, having that kind of power.

I was thrown against the bed, bound in only underwear. My head hit the side of the dresser, bringing heat and a hot liquid. Blood. I tried to fight him as he took off my panties, then my bra. I was sure after this he'd kill me. He knew Daryl would kill him if I didn't first, right? Would he try to kill Daryl too? I sobbed. It couldn't happen. I couldn't let him kill Daryl.

He was raping me. The words were sent to my brain. That's what it was. Rape. Even as I searched, I couldn't find anything to do to stop it. He was inside me. Sharing an intimate moment with me that I didn't want to.

Jack wasn't anything like Daryl was. Daryl was gentle, he knew how to make sure I wouldn't hurt, he cared. He knew what places made me crazy and what hurt me. Jack didn't. He was rough, he hurt, he was insensitive.

He pulled my hair. Not like the tugging, sexual pulling. The nearly ripping it out of my scalp jerking. I cried out, so he hit me. His fist connected with my nose and I felt the rush of blood.

I looked behind me, my eyes quickly darting around the room to end my misery. If I opened the dresser drawer, I may get lucky and hit him hard enough to surprise him and I could run off. I reached for it, it was hard with him on top of me, but I grabbed it. I slammed it open, hitting him in the back of the head.

He seemed confused at first, his eyebrows contorted in confusion and he went still. And then his eyes were rolling in the back of his head. He hit the floor with a thud, his eye lids closing as he hit. Like it was in slow motion.

I scrambled away from him, my hand flying to my mouth in shock. Oh god. I killed him. I think I freaking killed him. Great.

I didn't know what to do. I just sat on the bed, covering myself with sheets as I waited on someone to find me. Miriam, Belle? Dear God, anyone but Belle. She couldn't be the one to find her father dead.

I sobbed, staring at his motionless body. Should I cover him up? Did he deserve that? Did whoever who will find us deserve for him to at least be covered?

Not too long later, the door opened and Daryl walked in. I was pressed against the wall, the sobs still shaking me down to my core. Our eyes connected as he dropped whatever was in his hand.

"What the hell?" He looked confused as his eyes darted from Jacks naked body and me. "What the.. Kyra?" his head jerked towards me. He was motionless.

"Did he?" he asked, looking more hurt than I ever thought imaginable. He couldn't even finish his sentence. I nodded, letting out a loud sob.

"Daryl, he came in and he threatened me and-" I choked, "-and he pushed himself on me. God, I tried to get away.." I stopped talking, breaking out into more tears.

"Is he.. Is he dead?" he knelt near the body, grabbing a sheet off the bed and covering him.

"I don't know. I was too afraid to feel for his pulse." I explained. Was Daryl mad at me? Was he in shock? Was that why he had barely said a word?

He pressed two fingers against Jacks neck and nodded. "The perverts alive. Damn it."

What? Did he think I meant to kill him? I just wanted him off me..

He stood up and walked over to me, holding out his arms. I reached for him, reaching for comfort. He held me against him, and when he spoke the guilt in his voice was layered on thick.

"You're bleeding everywhere.. God, I'm so so sorry." he whispered against my ear. I grabbed handfuls of his shirt, not wanting to let go.

This is what humiliation felt like. I was a blubbering mess and let a guy control me. That was my worst fear and I had to live through it. Now I had to be comforted. Humiliation.

"You left," I whispered, getting tears all over his shirt. I didn't mean to say it, but it came out. Why?

"I know, Kyra. I know. I'm sorry." He held me to him, and a burst of anger shot through me.

"He raped me, and I kept screaming for you. He told me you wouldn't come, and you didn't." Why was I blaming him? It wasn't his fault, but the words came out and although I felt bad for saying them, there was truth to them. He wouldn't let me go on raids. He left me alone. He wouldn't believe me when I said that Jack was creeping me out.

"Kyra, I didn't know-" he started.

"But I told you!" I yelled, pushing him away. "I told you and you didn't believe me!"

Daryl was taken by surprise, his eyes brows pushed together in confusion.

"I'm sorry."

Another sob. I'm sorry? That just wasn't going to work this time. You use I'm sorry when you accidentally bump into someone. This was much much bigger than that.

"Michonne!" He yelled, pulling the sheet around me as it was falling off.

"I don't want her to see me like this!" I yelled, pissed he was actually going to get her in here while I was bleeding and naked. Except for the sheet.

She came in anyway, her eyes wide at the mess.

"Help me get him out of here," Daryl nearly ordered, his arms leaving me. She wordlessly did as he said, lifting him up by his feet as Daryl lifted him from his torso. They carried him out and I sat on the bed, unable to think.

What do you do at a time like this? I had to make myself quit blaming Daryl. But I wanted to so so bad. After all, if he would have listened to me in the first place, we wouldn't be in this mess.

And where would we go? Surely we wouldn't stay here while Jack was here, right?

Michonne walked in, closing the door behind her.

"We left him on his bed. Let Miriam find him. He's alive. I'm not sure if he's gonna wake up though." she walked across the room and sat down beside me. "Are you ok?"

I shook my head no. I was very far from ok. Miles away from it.

"I'll get a bath going so you can clean up and we'll make sure you don't need any-"

"Michonne?" I asked, realizing someone was missing. Did I have a concussion? I hit my head multiple times fighting Jack. It was possible.

"Yeah?" she asked, brushing my hair back from my ear, grazing the gash from where I hit my head on the dresser. I hadn't realized how bad it was. She didn't gag or move away. She acted like it didn't happen. I loved her.

"Where's Daryl?" I asked, feeling mixed emotions. I wanted to beat him senselessly for leaving me with Jack, but I needed him. I needed to feel protected. He did that for me. Nobody else ever made me feel like I was indestructible, but Daryl does.

"He's convincing himself that it's not right to murder an unconscious man. He's blowing some steam right now." was all she said. She was vague. Did that mean he left again? Or was he hitting stuff? I didn't want him on his motorcycle while he was mad. He would speed. And that meant he may wreck. I couldn't cope if he wrecked.

"Let's check all your bruises, ok? You have a pretty large cut on the side of your head. I'm just going to make sure we won't need to make some kind of stitches, ok?" Michonne carefully parted parts of my hair as she checked all of my cuts and bruises.

She once again looked at the gash on the side of my head. She winced, and I did too. Two different types of wincing. I winced from pain, she winced from knowing I would need stitches. None of us knew how to stitch someone up.

"I'm going to get that bath going," she nearly whispered, standing up and walking out of the room.

Great. Why did my life have these terrible ups and downs? One minute, I feel on top of the world, the next I'm fighting someone off of me and having to have stitches. All in two weeks.

I just wanted Daryl. And I didn't know where he was. I needed him to tell me that I would be ok and I would get through this.

I stood up, walking out of the room in my sheet and headed for the living room. I looked out the window. His motorcycle was still there, so, he didn't drive off. Thank God.

I heard Michonne in the bathroom and seen water boiling on the stove for my bath. God knows where Miriam and Belle were, probably out 'playing'. I double checked to make sure Michonne was busy and I looked at the steps leading up to Jack and Miriam's room.

My eyes darted to the little closet under the stair case, where I knew my gun was. I walked over to it, holding the sheet to me for dear life. I opened it, squinting to see in it.

My gun stuck out next to Jacks shotgun and a few moth balls. It was shinier. I grabbed it, missing the feel of it's smooth handle against my hand. This gun meant so much to me after Daryl gave it to me. It was like a little piece of him in a deadly weapon.

I made sure it was loaded and headed up the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible so Michonne wouldn't come to check out the scene. I know what I wanted to do. She didn't need to try to stop me.

I pushed open the door and I expected an adrenaline rush or my heart to beat like crazy, but I had an eery calm set over me. I liked it.

The only light coming in the room was from the window above his bed. He laid on top of the covers, the sheet still covering him. I realized he was awake. Good.

"Miriam?" He asked, leaning up. I pulled the hammer back. It made a small but noticeable and recognizable noise.

"Kyra?" his tone changed from guilt ridden to fear. Good.

I walked over to him, the gun pointed directly at him. I wanted to shoot him. Right now.

"Kyra, don't do this. Please?" He begged, unable to move too much. I hoped his head hurt as much as mine did.

"Why should I not Jack?" I whispered, feeling powerful.

"Think about Miriam! And Belle! They couldn't live without me!" Was he actually crying? What a loser.

"They'd probably do better, actually," I couldn't speak up. It was like my voice was locked on this low menacing almost-growl thing.

"If you kill me, what makes you any better than me?" he tried to think of excuses. But, even he couldn't think of any reasons to live.

"Are you going to try to use that excuse on me, Jack? Really?" I pushed the gun against his temple, enjoying him squirming around.

"Kyra-"

"I'm going to let you live for now. But only because when I do kill you, I want to be able to say you could defend yourself. Understand?" I pushed the gun away from his head and walked out of the room silently.

I went back into my room and waited for Michonne to tell me that it was time to take my bath.

In due time, I would kill Jack. I wanted the satisfaction of being able to do it myself. If anyone tried to stop me, I would go through them, too.

/

Review review review! So, a lot of you are wondering when Daryl will tell Kyra why he wanted to distance herself from Beth. It's coming soon. Don't worry lovelies. Xx


	32. Chapter 32

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO  
I sat in my bath, my knees hugged to my chest, and sat motionless. Miriam had come in and found Jack. She went into a raging fit, cursing at Michonne and swearing to kill Daryl. But, after Michonne told her it wasn't Daryl, but me who did it, she was confused.

"Why don't you ask Jack?" Michonne had asked. They were just outside the bathroom door, and although I couldn't see them I knew Michonne would have her arms crossed and that daring look on her face that said 'try me and see what happens'.

Miriam had ran upstairs, leaving Belle in the kitchen with Michonne. I felt bad. Maybe she really was clueless. But, on the other hand, maybe she was in denial. That would piss me off too. Because if Jack has done this to any one else, he needed a bullet in his head a long time ago.

I didn't wash my hair, too afraid I'd get soap in my gash. That'd probably burn like hell and I didn't want that. I was already in a lot of pain.

There was a knock on the door and Daryl walked in. I put my arms over my chest, feeling slightly awkward. He stood there for a minute and we just looked at each other. I couldn't read him. Finally, he moved and sat down by the bath tub, his eyes never left my face. That was respectful. I needed that.

"How're you doing?" he asked, one arm propped against the tub. I was glad he wasn't upset with me for blaming him. But, I think he was mad at himself. I didn't want that either.

I nodded slowly, looking at my feet. The water made them look weird and disoriented.

"You got pretty banged up," he commented, dipping his hand in the water. His hand grazed my leg and I flinched, not meaning to. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"It's ok." It wasn't a whisper, but it was low. It had been nearly an hour since I had spoken last. My last words were used to threaten Jack.

"You have blood in your hair," he said it like it was nothing. Like I had ketchup on the side of my face. "Care if I get it off?"

"I'm afraid I'll get something in the cut," I said simply, looking up at him. The look on his face said it all. He felt terrible. What was worse was that we couldn't leave. We would just be on the run again. I've never done that before. Him and Michonne were used to that, but I wasn't. So, he would refuse to leave. Even if I begged.

"I'll be careful," he promised, and I nodded. He shifted so he was behind me and took a rag off a little stool by the tub. He dipped it in water and gently rubbed the area around my gash. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back.

The water dripped around me, an ugly pink color. I tried not to pay attention to it.

When he was done sponging my hair, he threw the rag in the floor and got another one, scrubbing at the spots on my neck where the blood had dripped. He was careful but it he was still kind of rough.

We sat in silence as he pulled my hair back from my shoulders and washed them and parts of my back. There wasn't any blood there, but I think he just wanted an excuse to stay with me. He didn't need one.

"You know I don't blame you, right?" I whispered. His hands stopped moving on my back and I wanted to know what he looked like right now.

"No. But I do now," he continued his work and we sat in silence again. I hated it.

"I'm going to kill him." I didn't say it in a whisper. It was bold and even surprised me.

"I know," was all he said. But I knew he wanted the satisfaction of killing him too. He wanted to beat him with every inch of his life and then end it all for him. Feed him to the walkers. I wanted to, too.

He was washing the same place over and over again, grazing the bruises on my arms from where he gripped me. Why didn't he think he needed an excuse to stay?

"Daryl, I can't stay here," I was back to whispering so I wouldn't cry, but my voice still cracked. It was pitiful. I hated it.

"I know. But, we have no where to go and I swear as soon as I can get you out of here, we'll be gone." he threw the rag with the other one and put his arms around my shoulders, hugging me to him despite my wet hair.

"No, Daryl I can't stay here another minute. I want to be gone. And then I'll come back and kill him, but until then I need out of here. How can you ask me to stay just a few feet away from him?" Was I really playing the blame game again? Poor Daryl. Wait, no. I need to quit feeling bad for people when this terrible stuff is happening to me.

"But, Kyra we have no where to go," he said it a bit more forcefully, but he was gentle at the same time. He didn't shake me or anything, but he placed his hands on my shoulders, gripping me. I shrank back timidly, still scared.

"Daryl, I'm not sleeping in the same house as him," I whispered, my eye brows pushed together and I turned my head slightly, willing him to understand my pain.

"You don't have to, I'll go get us a tent and we'll sleep in that-" he began.

"Michonne can't stay here either. He looks at her, too and-" I started breathing fast, unable to finish my own sentence. One hand shot out to Daryl, gripping his shirt. I was getting too worked up over this.

"Kyra," his hand went over mine, "she won't. It's ok. We'll only stay here at nights and in the evenings we'll look for a place to stay. I promise."

I nodded, unable to speak. I felt like I was in a bad horror movie. My grip on his shirt loosened and my hand fell numbly to the side.

Another knock on the door. Daryl stood up wordlessly and walked over, opening it. Michonne walked in and I once again hid my body. But, she respectfully kept her eyes away from the tub.

"We'll need to stitch that up soon before you lose a lot of blood. Miriam has a needle and some thread, but I'm not sure if we can use that. So, I was thinking we could make our way to some clinic and pick around." she said, looking at the ground by the tub. Daryl scratched the back of his neck and I wondered what he was thinking.

"I can go, right?" I asked, a little worried that they'd say some crap like 'no you're in no shape to travel,' and leave me with the crazies. And the rapist.

"We wouldn't leave you here," Daryl said, shaking his head like I should know. Well, Daryl, you left me before. So, don't give me that look.

"Good," I said to the water. I wanted to just get dressed and leave and never come back. But I knew nobody would do that because I apparently wasn't strong enough- head injury or not- to be on the run.

Michonne and Daryl walked out of the room to give me some privacy to change. Michonne had picked random things from my drawer and laid them on the sink.

I stood up from the water and steppe out onto the brown mat. I dried off my body but didn't touch my hair. I was still afraid to go near the gash/cut thing. I was even more afraid of having to let Michonne or Daryl sew it up. That would hurt like hell.

I pulled on a fresh pair of undies and a bra, feeling slightly better now that I was clean. But two hours after being violated isn't enough time to make you not want to scream.

I took the jeans Michonne had laid down on the sink and thanked God silently for being comfortable. It would have been better if they were sweats, but she did the best she could.

Now for the shirt. It was probably a size too big, but I was afraid to try and put it over my head. And my arm felt stuff after Jack bruised it. It was yellow and purple, so I thought maybe it wasn't too bad.

I opened the door, just jeans and a bra with my hair a soaking wet mess, and called for Daryl. But, Miriam was in the kitchen, eyes puffy and nose red.

"Kyra, are you ok?" she asked, for once sounding like she actually cared instead of prying. And she wasn't judging me for walking around without a shirt on. She must really be in some distress.

"Yeah. How are you?" I asked, and felt a drip on my shoulder. Great. I was bleeding again. I wiped it off with the shirt I had in my hand and Miriam made a face.

"You should probably apply pressure to that," she stood up and walked over. "Do you need a towel?"

"No, it's ok. I can just use this shirt," and I did. I wadded it up and stuck it softly on the spot, wincing a little at the pain.

"Do you know where Daryl is?" I asked, and nearly started gagging. The pain really was awful. I had made such a desperate attempt to not put any kind of pressure on it and now I had a shirt sticking to it.

"Him and Michonne went to get the car set up for you. Are you sure you don't need anything?" she asked. I could tell she really wanted to be able to help me. I knew she felt bad, but I didn't really have time to sit around and comfort her.

"No, I'm fine. Thanks," I walked outside and found Daryl laying towels down on the seats of the car.

"Daryl," I said, standing on the porch. Michonne looked up before Daryl did, she was on the other side, putting a pillow down.

"Yeah?" he asked, turning away from his work.

"I need a different shirt." I said simply. He looked at Michonne and then walked up to me, putting his arm around my shoulders. One of my arms was still holding the shirt to my head and the other one was sticky by my side.

We walked in the house, passing Miriam and a sleeping Belle on the couch, and went into our room. He got out one of his button downs, no sleeves of course.

"You don't have any. Will this do?" he asked, and I nodded. He still felt guilty. I didn't want him to beat himself up over this. It would kill me and him both. Shit happens. Then we get over it. Some stuff takes a little longer to move on from, others not so much. Hopefully, we could move from this quickly.

He helped me put it on over the stiff arm, slowly and carefully. If we weren't both stressed out and I hadn't been holding a shirt to my bloody head, it would probably be sweet and intimate. But, it wasn't. It was sad and Daryl was pissed. That much was obvious.

Without my consent, he started buttoning the shirt. Slowly and careful not to touch my bare skin. He knew I was delicate right now. And that's how he handled me. Like I was a flower. It made me feel weak and small. I was never the kind of girl who wanted to be taken care of and showered with gifts. When guys fought for girls- literally punches and blood- I found it silly. I could take care of myself most of the time. And at times like this when I couldn't, I felt ridiculous.

We left the room and Miriam, Belle, and Jack. I sat in the backseat, stretched out and rested my head on the pillow Michonne had set up. She was afraid I had a concussion and wasn't sure what to do.

We were on the road within thirty minutes, normally a much longer journey. She was speeding and Daryl kept looking back, making sure I wasn't asleep.

Just a minute ago I was in a tub. Why were they so worried?

They were whispering. I couldn't hear them, but I caught a few words. White, pale, bloodshot, etc. I supposed I was losing a lot of blood. Had they not realized this earlier? Or did my sudden change in appearance worry them?

We were on a strip now, I couldn't see anything but the tops of buildings from my angle. But, I supposed it was probably busy with walkers. I imagined all the different kinds of used to be people walking around.

Some more whispers. I caught parts of it. They couldn't find a hospital. They weren't familiar with these parts of this town.

Even if we found a hospital, it could be over run with walkers. I wanted to suggest a walk in clinic. My dad got stitches there once when I was eleven. He had fallen off the roof and landed in a bush. He ended up with thirty-two stitches in his leg.

"What about a walk in clinic?" I asked, and I realized how dry my mouth was. It felt like cotton. They looked at each other and Michonne shrugged.

So, the car sped up, swaying as we dodged random things; cars, walkers, bikes, grocery carts. I had sat up, wanting to look out the window. The pillow I had propped up on had a pretty large blood stain, even though my shirt hadn't left my head.

Another hour passed, and we finally found a clinic.

"Don't move. We'll be in and out." Michonne said, getting her sword out of the floor board and positioning it on her back. Daryl had his bow ready. I was weaponless. Even if I had one, I felt weak and wouldn't be able to control one anyway.

They got out of the car and ran to the door. It was locked. Daryl kicked it open, and they silently crept in, closing the door behind them again.

I laid back down, realizing I felt too weak to hold my head up. Why had we waited so long?

I must've fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew Daryl was lifting me out of the car. He carried me inside and I was limp against him, my head settled on his shoulder, the gash on the other side. We walked in the dark place and went inside a room. He laid me down on one of those beds and I looked over to see Michonne opening different bags, a large cabinet with no door.

"Daryl?" I asked, just a small whisper.

He didn't answer, just looked at me with worry.

"Can we not hurry this up?" Daryl asked, fist clenched.

"We're going to have to shave part of her hair. I'm not sure how to go about it, Daryl. I'm not a doctor and neither are you."

"Well, we need to do something. My god, look how pale she is, Michonne!"

She wordlessly opened a bag, a razor. Oh god. My hair.

She was putting something on the back of my head, avoiding the gash, but she failed at some point and pain shot through me. Was it shaving cream? Yes? Oh god...

The terrible sound of the razor blade echoed in my head as she shaved the hair away. I wanted to cry but I just closed my eyes and imagined I was in a tree stand. I hadn't been in one in at least two years. Maybe longer?

But, even as I knew that I was in pain and my hair was being shaved, I was in a tree stand, my dad's shock gun propped up beside me as I looked out over our hunting lease. It was quiet, peaceful. I heard some squirrels rustling in a tree beside me and some birds flew across the dark sky. It was early, only five in the morning.

I saw something. A grabbed the gun, scoping in on the area, cursing myself for leaving the binoculars in my dads truck. But when I sighted in it wasn't an animal, it was a person. It was limping awkwardly out of the woods and I lowered my gun, confused.

Suddenly I was brought back to consciousness as a searing hot pain flashed continually through my body and I let out a small shriek. I gripped Daryl's hand, fighting back tears.

"It's ok, Kyra," he said, standing beside me, letting me squeeze the hell out of his hand. I doubted it hurt seeing as how weak I was. "she's just cleaning it out ok? It's ok."

Eventually she stopped, and I lessened my grip on his hand, but then she produced a needle and a blue stringy looking thing. I sort of choked/sobbed. Daryl attempted to comfort me.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could numb you, but I don't know how or where or if you can right here," she applied small pressure to the area around the gash, "we can't take any risk."

I once again gripped Daryl's hand, looking at him with frightened eyes. He looked back, a frown on his face. This was really going to hurt like hell.

She started, and it did hurt. Really bad. I clenched my jaw, breathing in and out hard. Daryl's eyes didn't waver from mine as she worked. I could feel everything. Every little thing.

I was shaking. My whole body was trembling. Just like when Jack violated me. I trembled. Michonne asked me to steady myself, and I tried, but it was hard.

It didn't take long, probably less if she wouldn't have had to stop to ask me to stop my shaking. But it was over and I was in serious pain.

I laid on the table for a little bit, the gash being high enough and to the side so that I could lay on my back. While we were there they decided to stock up on some supplies. When in Rome, right?

Eventually we were in the car. I was laid back in the seat and they told me they needed to get some tents and maybe some other stuff and then they'd we'd go home. Where is home?

I fell asleep out of exhaustion as the sun was just setting down the tree line. I was in the back of the car on my stomach so that I wouldn't put any pressure on my poorly done stitches. I wasn't bleeding anymore. I had flipped the bloody pillow and went back to my dream of seeing the person in the woods.

They walked near me, tripping over obvious things. Their mouth was half open as they made their slow journey towards me.

I never realized it was a Walker in my dreams until days later.

/

Sorry for the late-ish chapters. I'm trying lovelies. Review!


	33. Chapter 33

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE  
The sun was coming in through the net of the tent, hitting me right in the eyes. I squinted, slowly opening my eyes and rolling over on the blow up mattress to look at Daryl beside me. He had his back turned and I was tempted to let him sleep and just lay there for awhile.

But, the earlier we started looking for another place to stay, the sooner we'd find a place. It'd been three days since we'd set up our tent arrangement and I was getting pretty tired of the cramped up space. The tent was barely big enough to fit our air mattress, let alone any of our clothes, which sat in suit cases outside. It hadn't rained yet, but when it did, our suitcases would be drenched and it'd probably ruin all of our stuff. And when we had really hot summer nights, Daryl and I were barely clothed, still extremely hot. The first night he grabbed a blanket and slept outside, leaving me alone and eventually I called him back. I was terrified to be alone at the time.

I gently shook him, crouched in the tent so I could give him a little room to stretch. He looked up at me, eyebrows furrowed together as he looked up at me, squinting against the light. He grunted slightly.

"Morning," he mumbled, taking in my appearance. I was in one of his button downs and my a loose pair of boxer shorts.

"Morning," I whispered, hugging my knees to my chest. He smiled slightly.

"Why are we whispering?" he whispered to me playfully.

I hadn't realized I was. Huh. Maybe it was because I had just woken him up and figured he was still sleepy. Although neither one of us really had had a deep sleep lately. I repeatedly had my tree stand dream and Daryl was too hot.

"Oops," I said a little timidly, smiling slightly. He leaned up and kissed me lightly on the mouth. I tried not to shrink back, but I jerked slightly, causing him to sigh loudly and slump down.

"I'm sorry," I felt awful. I couldn't even let him kiss me without jerking away. Why?! It was Daryl! He's been good to me! It was Jack who was the pervert, not him. Daryl had no so much as laid a hand on my thigh if I told him I wasn't in the mood or he could feel I was upset. So, why couldn't I kiss him? Maybe I just needed time, but how much time was needed? Because I didn't know if Daryl and I would last very long if we couldn't share a simple peck.

"It's not your fault," he rubbed the back of his neck, stretching out his torso; a sight I would normally marvel at, but I looked away, feeling ashamed.

I nodded, looking at the ground. I know he said it wasn't my fault, but I couldn't help think that he was at least a little frustrated with me. He had to be. We were both so used to having intimate moments whenever and wherever, wether it'd be a quick kiss across the counter in the kitchen, or making love whenever we seen fit. Neither one of us were shy. So now that I had locked my self away, it was awkward between us. We didn't huddle together in the bed like we used to, due to the heat and the obvious. We didn't face each other and any time he grazed me, I jumped. It was miserable. He treated me like a fragile kid. Even though we could talk, it was like we were miles apart. We were constantly touching, but we couldn't now.

I unzipped the tent, wordlessly crawling out to leave Daryl and his stern face to get dressed. I didn't care I that I was nearly half naked, but Michonne may be a bit uncomfortable if Daryl strutted out in his underwear.

I sat in a lawn chair, looking at everything. I could see Daryl's silhouette through the tent, putting clothes on. He'd eventually join me around the fire pit and help me exchange my bandages for new ones. I looked so weird with these giant white bandages wrapped around my head. But, Michonne demanded it, saying I couldn't let it get infected because that would an entirely different ball game and she really wouldn't know what to do then.

After we exchanged our bandages, we'd wait on Michonne. So far in the past few days, we had sat in silence, Daryl kicking ashes around from the previous days fire.

Eventually she'd come out, already dressed and ready to eat something and leave. We'd boil water over a new fire and eat oatmeal, then set out to look for our next place to stay. We would look until it was time for a lunch break and eat different canned foods, something that didn't have to be heated like fruit cocktail or canned peaches. Then our search would continue until night and we would go back to our camp. The only other stops were for refilling the gas tank (having to take it from random cars) and bathroom breaks.

Daryl came out of the tent and I glanced at him, then back to the black fire pit.

"I might as well start the fire," he commented, digging around a bag for the kerosene and matches. He produced them and after putting a few branches on top of the burnt ones and pouring the foul smelling liquid on top, he lit it.

Without having to say anything, he got up and timidly put his hands on the bandages, carefully unwrapping them. There was a disgusting bald spot where once my red-blonde hair was. Now there was just scalp. It was embarrassing and even though Daryl and Michonne kept telling my it wasn't noticeable and that it would grow back, I knew it wasn't and in hated it.

"It's looking like it's healing pretty good," Daryl said, taking some gauze out an orange box. He put three sheets of it on top of the stitches before actually wrapping it around my head. He secured it with medical tape. "Fit good?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

He sat down in the lawn chair beside me, his dark green and mine a bright red. He slouched so that his knuckles actually grazed the ground, one leg outstretched while the other was slightly bent.

We hadn't put much thought into our little campsite, just picked a place past the creek and set up, having to make two trips from the car and back. I obviously didn't do anything, seeing as how I was sort of in and out. Daryl even carried me across the creek. I had been asleep and woken up awkwardly bent in a lawn chair as the two set up the tents.

"Still having headaches?" Daryl asked, kicking at some old soot and burnt wood. It was like we were back at the prison before the first time in the library. It was like we were just friends. I was ok with that for now. I had to be. I couldn't let him touch me without freaking. I just hoped he did.

"Yup. It's just one big headache after the other. It's not there when I first wake up, but give me two minutes and it's roaring again." I explained, making a face.

"We'll get you some Advil while we're out today."

More silence. The silence really wasn't all that bad. Honesty it wasn't. We sat in comfortable silence before. It was just part of enjoying each other's presence without having to entertain the other. That was the beauty of it. But, it just felt off. I wondered if he felt it too.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked, looking at him side ways.

"Knock yourself out," he leaned back in his chair and looked at me, pulling a cigarette out of his breast pocket along with a lighter.

"When you were gone, you told me to distance myself from Beth. Why?" I asked, wanting to ask him that since I first read his letter. At the mention of his name my heart ached a little. I missed her. She was one of my best friends back at the prison. I had left without even really telling her bye.

"I don't want to say anything that would make you think less of her," he said, the cigarette hanging out of his mouth. I wanted to jerk it out and throw it in the fire. I hated it when he smoked.

"Well, now I already do!" I said, throwing my hands up. "You have to tell me!" And he did. Because I would pester him until he did.

"She just kind of hit on me while we were in the prison and I think she realized I was with you. Got a little jealous. I just didn't want you to get hurt or anything," he was vague. Holding something back from me and I wanted to know what.

"I don't get it?" I played dumb, attempting that approach. If that didn't work, I would nag until he told me. That usually worked.

"I just didn't want to stay in the prison after you... had the baby. I wanted to leave."

"And you thought I wanted to stay?" I asked, giving him an accusing look. "They threw you out because of who you were fond of. I already had my bags packed by the time the third day rolled around," that was of course an exaggeration, "So, how is that an excuse?" I really wanted to know. Because just talking about her made me ache all over and if I could've talked to her more before I left, I would have.

"Kyra, it's nothing it was just-"

"Don't give me any bull crap, Daryl, please?" I begged. He sighed loudly. That was number two for the day.

"Fine. Apparently you let it slip you were seeing someone a bit older and she wanted to have some too. And she apparently chose me. She asked me if I would help her put some books up in the library and she... came on to me. When I told her I couldn't she said something along the lines of 'it's ok, there are other people doing it, too' and I kept pushing her away. I think she put two and two together and found out it was me you were seeing and got a little jealous. I think she may be the one that dropped the hint to Carol." Her name made me want to vomit.

"I know you wouldn't know, but she was already in the room when Rick drug me in there. She knew it was happening. Beth may look like this good person, but good lord she's a feisty thing. She had me pinned against that dang book shelf. And when she couldn't get her way I think she just went into a fit. Maybe Beth regretted it later, but I didn't like seeing you guys all chummy an thinking she might be the reason I was being sent off."

That hurt. A lot. I had trusted her, loved her. I wanted her to run off with us when that time came. Come to find out she just wanted to be inside Daryl's pants. So, she ran off and told on us like we were in kindergarten.

I was silent. Daryl stared at me, blowing smoke out occasionally.

We didn't speak for the rest of the time. Just played with the fire and looked at each other. It was sweet that Daryl hadn't wanted to tell me about Beth to save my heart break, but I'm glad that I know now. It was just a suspicion, but in my heart I knew that what he said was true. She couldn't stand it. Beth was always a little on the selfish side; taking Judith from me randomly, the story of her trying to kill herself (before I was with the group, but Daryl had told me), fighting over who gets what room. The little stuff.

I guess an answer was an answer. But it sucked. Beth had pretended to be my friend and mourn the loss of Daryl with me. When she found out the baby died, was she secretly happy? She had mentioned once that she was fond of Daryl. I just brushed it off, so, maybe it was my fault?

I noticed something seemed familiar about the place we chose to camp. It was the place Daryl took me a little over a week ago to have our mini get away night. I frowned, realizing my memory of the place was now tarnished because it was no longer mine and Daryl's place. It was the three of ours.

Michonne walked out of the tent, completely dressed and ready. She nodded at us and sat down in the last lawn chair, light blue with stripes. Daryl poured a bottle of water in a pan and set in the fire. Now we waited for it to boil.

"How's your head?" Michonne asked as we sat in silence.

"It's good. Still have headaches." I responded like I did every morning. It was a routine.

"Did Daryl patch you up already?"

"Yeah," he answered for me, talking for the first time. They looked at each other with blank faces and I wondered if something had happened between them or they were just acting out of place.

The water boiled and we made our oatmeal. More silence as we ate, just watching the fire and tasting the bland breakfast. I wondered about the dream I had the night before, the tree stand dream. It didn't make much sense. Had I seen a Walker when I was hunting? Or was just really just a dream? Who knew.

After we ate, I pulled on the moccasins Michonne gave me when I was pregnant. No need in changing out of my shorts when all I would be seeing were walkers.

As we walked through the woods, my gun tucked into the waistband of my pants, Daryl and I lagged behind a bit. We walked at the same pace so when he slowed, I slowed, and vice versa.

"If I take my bike would you ride with me?" he asked. It was one of those tones that wasn't exactly a whisper but it was low. He didn't want Michonne to hear our conversation anyway.

I thought about having to ride close to Daryl, to have wrap my arms around him, to have be pressed against him and nearly shivered.

"If you don't want, it's fine." But it didn't sound like it was fine. He sounded irritated. I know he tried not to be, but he was.

"No, let's do it." I said quickly before I had time to make up an excuse why we couldn't. Right now my head was racing with them and I had to make myself stop because they all sounded like shit.

I think Daryl heard the weariness in my voice because he kind of made a face and said: "No, seriously. Just forget I said anything."

"Daryl," I whined, wishing he would quit this game he was playing.

"Kyra, I just need to know when you're going to quit making that face every time I touch you."

I made a face? I was trying to not show that I inwardly grimaced every time he got too close, but apparently I'm not good at hiding stuff.

"I just need some time.." I tried to reason with him, but he just seemed pissed. So, I tried a different approach. "Besides, on the motorcycle it's not like we're going to be making out or anything."

Although we had had some experiences on his treasured bike that had been heated. Neither one of us brought that up...

"If you're sure you're not going to throw up or anything," he looked at me sideways, bow slung over his shoulder.

"I promise."

So Michonne got in her car and after we opened the gates and I closed them behind both of them, I ran over to Daryl's bike.

I got on, keeping a pretty good sized distance between. I definitely didn't get as close as I normally would. Seeing as how the 'normal' would include my legs wrapped around him and my lips teasing him from behind.

But today was obviously different and I didn't actually hold on to him up until we hit a bump and I was too scared to do otherwise.

He was accelerating on the mountain road and I knew why. He wanted me to get scared enough until I was eventually pressed against him. But instead, when he hit eighty, I lightly hit him with the side of my fist. He slowed down to seventy, but it was still too quick for me.

We made it to another back road, a different one than yesterday, and zig zagged around random objects on the extremely curvy road. He did it. I was pressed against him and my hands were grabbing handfuls of his shirt. His hand went down to pat my knee and it jerked away. Damn.

Even I wanted to know when we could be normal again.

/

So, I'm starting to get a bit discouraged. /: I used to get at least five reviews per chapter and now I only get one or two. :( review!


	34. Chapter 34

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR  
After another unsuccessful day of trying to find somewhere else to stay, we were both sitting around the fire exhausted, physically and mentally. Physically because we had hiked up trails too narrow for Michonne's car, only to find the place over run to the point of hardly a building left. So, we'd run back to the vehicles, get on the bike, and take off. Mentally because we were tired of always being on the go and stressing about my head getting infected or never finding a good place to stay. It was all around depressing. Michonne had went to her tent just minutes before, claiming she wasn't hungry. We all silently knew she was pissed that we couldn't find another place to stay. She didn't like being half a mile from Jack either. None of us did.

I looked over at Daryl, his lips pressed tight together as he stared at the fire. His eyes were getting that purple tint under them from lack of sleep in that hot sack we call a tent and he just looked all around tired. His forehead was slick with sweat and his hair was stuck in random places around his head. He sat awkwardly in his seat, slanted at an angle with his knuckles once again nearly touching the ground while the other held his cigarette. He blew smoke out of his nose and I knew that he knew I was looking at him. But he wouldn't make eye contact.

"Are you mad?" I finally asked. I was sitting criss-crossed in my chair, my hands in my lap. My hair was a mess after riding the motorcycle all day and I hadn't really bothered to brush it. I hardly ever did anyway.

"Why would I be?" he asked, looking up at me through a small cloud of cigarette smoke that curled up in the night air, joining the smoke from the fire. He knew why. Did he want me to say it? Fine.

"Because I didn't let you kiss me this morning." I felt like a little kid again. Again. He always made me feel like that. Like I was in trouble for writing on the walls or not making my bed.

"You can't help it," he dropped his gaze from mine, taking another long drag from that damned cigarette. He had been smoking a lot lately. But, if it kept him from killing Jack before I did, I guess I could stand it for a little bit.

"Don't give me that, Daryl. Talk to me. Please?" Again with the begging. Everything had been repetition lately.

"I don't know what to say, Kyra." he threw his hands up, throwing the bud of his cigarette into the fire. "I don't know what to say when you can't even hold my hand. You freak out whenever I touch your arm or your leg, I have to be extremely careful when putting your bandages on, or you jerk away, and every time I think 'hey!'," he threw a hand up, "'she may be ok for me to give her a kiss this morning!' You trip over your own two feet to get away from me!

"I don't know if you know this or not, Kyra, but it wasn't me who raped you!" I flinched, "It was Jack!"

I scoffed, but it wasn't sarcastic as in mad, it was sad. "For someone who doesn't know what to say that was something."

It was his turn to scoff. He stood up, nearly toppling the chair over. He stood in that awkward way of his that was a little on the 'sassy' side.

"I'm going to bed." he announced, turning from me. Now not only was he upset about the no touching war, but now he was pissed off at me.

"Daryl, please. Can't we talk about this?" I squeaked. I could feel the tears forming around my eyes. Wonderful. "I didn't ask for this to happen. I tried to defend myself. You know, it's not like I wanted a bald spot on the back of my head where hair will never grow! Oh and did you know that he also took my purity from me!" I screamed, putting strong emphasis on the word purity. He was looking at me like I had just slit his puppy's throat right in front of him.

"Your purity!? Kyra, you lost that when you screwed me in a fucking shed!" he yelled back, his arms spread wide and he was slightly bent at the waist. I stood up, glad there was a fire between us or else we'd probably end up hitting each other.

"No, Daryl! As long as I was with one man only, to me, I was pure! I was saving myself for the person I was going to marry! And you were that damned person! Open your eyes! He took that from me!" Michonne was probably pissed we chose to scream at each other ten minutes after she'd gone to sleep.

"It's not my fault!" he yelled, pauses in between each word, making them nice and clear. "I've been feeling guilty for days because you were begging to go with us! You told me you didn't trust Jack, and I didn't listen! And I came home to the mess he made. You don't think I blame myself for this? God damn it, Kyra!" he kicked at the old soot and it flew in the air, making a cloud as it settled back down slowly.

"I never said it was your fault! I don't want you to blame yourself, I just want you to understand that I was being hurt and I don't know what to do! Eventually, I'm going to be able to kiss you and let you touch me again. But I'm scarred, Daryl! He touched me and he wasn't gentle! He didn't just rape me, he hurt me!" the tears were out now. Damn. "You know, maybe it would have happened regardless, and I don't want to blame you, but damn it! I told you! And you left me! You didn't even wake me up to say bye or give me the chance to tell you that he tried to pull some shit the last time you left!"

"How do you expect me to know this shit if you don't tell me?" he yelled back. "I would have beaten the shit out of him and it would have never happened again! But you have this stupid pride thing! You know who else had that? Andrea! And she got fucking killed! So, maybe you should swallow that pride up and maybe things like this wouldn't happen!"

"Oh, so now it's my fault I was raped! Oh, you're right! It was my bad that I was forced to have sex with a pig of man!" I screamed. "I'm so so sorry!"

"That's not what I said! God! You twist everything around to where it's worse!" he did knock the chair over now.

"Yeah, I suppose getting raped wasn't all that bad!"

"Am I going to have to hear this for the rest of our possibly short lives!? How I failed!? Because if so, I may end it even quicker!" he yelled, knocking a jar of water over. Thankfully it was closed with a lid.

"You know what, Daryl? Fine! End it! See if I care! I'll just go back to the prison and maybe they'll crucify me and it end it for me too!"

"See!? See!? That's the shit I'm talking about! Why bring up the prison? Because you know it'll piss me off!"

I picked up dirt and gravel and threw it across the fire at him. "You're such an asshole! Because you haven't gotten laid in a week suddenly this relationship isn't working out all that well! Just say it Daryl!"

"Say what!?" he yelled, his arms flinging out.

"That this relationship doesn't work for you unless I'm pleasing you!" I screamed, throwing my hands in the air in defeat.

"That's a fucking lie, Kyra! You know I've cared for you for a long long time! But after that comment, maybe I don't know you quite as well as I thought I did!"

My nostrils flared and I stared at him, the fire casting weird shadows around our angry faces. My fist were clenched by my side, ready to hit him.

"Why don't you just end this fucking thing, then, Daryl?" I nearly whispered, shaking with anger. It was like a wave of eat continually crashing around me. It was getting hard to see straight.

"Maybe I will!" he said forcefully, but not yelling.

"Fine. I'm going to bed." I stomped over to my tent, unzipping the door and crawled in. A second later his pillow and a blanket made their appearance by being flung out of the tent.

"Kyra.." he said from the outside, but I didn't listen. I zipped up the tent, waiting until he quit asking me to come out before I let the sobs over take me.

I cried myself to sleep, hating me and Jack and Daryl and this entire world. Nothing seemed right. Nothing was right. And I'm pretty sure the man I love just dumped me. In a motherfucking apocalypse I got dumped.

/

Kind of short chapter. Meh. Review!


	35. Chapter 35

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE  
The next morning we didn't speak. I didn't dress in shorts and a T-shirt, I chose jeans and a thin long sleeved shirt and my old boots. The three of us ate our oatmeal in silence, nothing out of the norm. But there was a special tension that everyone could feel and even if Michonne handn't more than likely heard us screaming at each other or woke up to find Daryl sleeping in a chair, she would have known something was wrong by our steely stares at the ground.

We crossed the creek to our vehicles and instead of getting on the motorcycle, after I closed the gate behind them, I walked over to Michonne's car, slamming the door after I moodily slumped in the passenger seat. She gave me one of her famous looks, then drove off, following behind Daryl. She didn't ask. I was glad because I don't think I really wanted to talk about it at the moment.

We took yet another road as we started our daily journey. It was getting tiresome heading off before noon and staying out until it was dark every single night. And I think the only one who was getting any sleep was Michonne. But I think our fighting was even affecting her. She too had dark circles under her eyes and somehow managed to look a little less put together as she normally did.

About an hour in, the silence was killing me and we hadn't had a reason to stop yet. I tried not to pay attention to Daryl in front of us, and instead focused on the floor board.

"Did you hear us last night?" I asked quietly, playing with a string on my pants. I had nearly worn all of my pants out, but luckily I had plenty of sweat pants.

"Yeah," she answered, not looking away from the road. She was steering with one hand, the other casually on her leg. And although the rest of her body looked calm, her face looked frustrated.

I didn't want to say anything out of fear I was annoying her. I don't think I ever had before, but with us all being on edge and lack of sleep, it was very much possible.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, finally glancing over at me. The frustrated face melted into one that seemed concerned. Even she noticed the Daryl/Kyra relationship was falling into shambles.

"I don't know if there's anything to talk about. We broke it off last night." I shrugged, not looking up at her. I didn't want to cry again.

"You can't just break up during the end of time!" she scoffed, I think attempting a joke.

"Well, we did." I leaned against the window and looked at Daryl only a few feet in front of us. God I wanted to run him over. Too bad I wasn't driving.

"Kyra, you guys had a fight. People in relationships have plenty of fights." She nudged me with her elbow lightly, but I continued looking at Daryl.

"But during this fight, we both said we wanted to end the relationship. So, we ended it!" Yes it was a fight, Michonne. I'm very very aware of that.

"You guys were just upset. I'm sure within a few days you'll be back to keeping everyone within a five mile radius awake." Again with the joking.

"But that's just it. No sex. I'm.. Scared. And for whatever reason Daryl doesn't seem to like our relationship when there's no sex involved!"

"He's just frustrated because he wants to kill Jack, and he knows you want to. So, he's been on edge. And you guys were always, always touching before. And now he can't. He's confused on what to do and how to act. Don't blame him for that." The joking was gone. Good.

"You just gave me another reason to kill Jack," I whispered grumpily. I held my breath when Daryl turned a curve and was out of sight for a few seconds.

"Are you going to apologize?" she asked, looking at me. My eyebrows flew up and my jaw slacked a little. Me? Apologize?

"What for?" I asked, crinkling my nose. Why the hell would I apologize to someone who needed to apologize to me?

"Because you love him." Well, that much was true. But I wasn't sure how I felt about him right now- love or not.

"I don't think so. By that I mean I'm not going to apologize. I've been through a lot of shit, and it's only been about four months. With losing Daryl for nearly two months, losing the baby all together, and Jack violating me, I don't know if I can apologize. It won't be sincere. And if it's not sincere, I won't say it." I said firmly, looking for Daryl's back to Michonne. She frowned, she too was looking at Daryl.

"Well, you go ahead and keep it bottled inside. But, Kyra, you know stuff happens out here. People die. So, you better make a decision quick."

She was right. I hated it, but eventually I would need to talk to him. Wether it be about us not meshing together like we thought we did, or about how much we needed each other. All I know, was that right now we really needed the little space we had. Daryl needed to figure out what he wanted, and so did I.

But, lately, we've been having too much of this space. We didn't speak for nearly three weeks after the baby died, and finally we reconnected. Only a week later, we were back to not speaking. This random stuff kept trying to push apart over and over again. The main question was: were we strong enough, together, to stay with each other? Because it would be really awkward to break up and still have to live two feet from each other.

Another hour passed by. Then another. Endless roads that would lead to random hillbilly gas stations or dead ends. We'd turn around and head back, after Daryl and Michonne talked about where to next. Everything seemed like a dead end lately.

Eventually, we stopped for lunch. We parked in front of one of the small gas stations and while there were no walkers, we got out of the car. Michonne took some food out; canned peaches, pickles, and chili. I grabbed the pickles, sitting on the hood of the car.

We ate in silence, Daryl and I not looking at each other, while Michonne ate the peaches and sat on the car beside me and Daryl ate the chili and propped against his motorcycle.

"You say your head was still hurting?" Michonne asked, throwing the empty can at a bush to the side of her.

"Yeah," I was still working on my pickles, wondering how in gods name she finished that so quickly.

"I'm gonna run in and grab some different pain killers. If they have any." she added on the end, jumping off the car. The door was locked and she walked in with ease.

Daryl and I sat in silence, the only sounds were that of metal against metal and metal against glass as we ate.

"You're going to have pickle breath," he said randomly, making me look up.

"You always have pickle breath," I retorted, and we both kind of chuckled. It was weak, but it was something.

"So, are we gonna talk about last night?" he asked, sitting his can down.

"No," I answered, picking up another sliced pickle.

"Are we ever?"

"No."

He nodded, standing up and wiping his dirty hands on his jeans. He had a good way of hiding his feelings, so I didn't know if he was hurt or not. So I decided to add something.

"Only because we don't need to. That is, if you don't think we need to."

He looked at me for a minute, a strange expression on his face. Michonne should be coming out at any minute, but who knew when. She had a way of disappearing.

"Sounds good."

"So, we're..?" I asked, titling my head slightly.

"Together?" They both were questions. They didn't have to be answered. I smiled across from him, and put the lid on my jar.

It wasn't really an apology, but it would work damn well as one. Because neither of us knew who was the one who needed to apologize. But we were good. For now. Baby steps.

Michonne came out a few minutes later, her hands full of different bottles: Tylenol, Advil, Ibuprofen, and more.

"I got some stuff for sore muscles too. Never know when you're going to need that." She commented, sitting the stuff down on the hood of the car. "Try this," she handed me the Tylenol bottle.

I took three, downing them with pickle juice. Now to wait and hope the headache subsided.

We all stood up and stretched, ready to go for another few hours before giving it up and returning to our campsite.

When Michonne walked to her car and Daryl walked to his, I was stuck wondering which one to choose once again.

I chose the car, thinking we still needed some space. Maybe after a few days we'd be back to that way we were, or maybe we'd have to start all over. I wasn't sure.

Baby steps.

Another dead end, wrong turn, long drive way later, we were stuck with Daryl getting off his motorcycle and signaling for us to stop the car. We We did and I watched as he propped the bike up with its kick stand. We were in front of what seemed to be a long drive way. Yet another. There was a giant brick and black iron gate with moss hanging over it. There was a panel that suggested once upon a time there was a buzzer. Now, I doubt it had worked for quite a few years. Trees blocked the view on either side and, thanks to the up and down hills of the drive way, we couldn't see much. It could be a dead end, or it could be our next place.

Daryl slowly moved forward, looking over the gate. He looked back at us, jerking his chin. We got out of the car, taking the few steps that separated us.

"See anything?" Michonne asked, hands on hips. The sun was getting lower. Soon it would be dark and by the looks of that hill, we wouldn't make it to whatever was on the other side.

"Not a damned thing," he grunted, falling from the gate with very little grace. "Think we have time to look around?" he asked, picking his bow up from where he left it by the ground. Seeing this, I instinctively let my hands wander to my gun- Daryl's gun- at my waist.

"Might as well," Michonne shrugged. "How's your head doing, Kyra?" she asked, turning to me. They thought I wouldn't be able to handle the trip. Well, I was sure as hell gonna try now.

"It's better," I lied, a lazy look placed upon my face. I'm sure they could see through me. I knew either one were capable of it.

"Think you can do it?" Daryl asked. They really had no faith at all.

"Yeah," I nodded my head along with response, feeling little confidence. But even if my head decided to bust open, I wouldn't complain.

Michonne hoisted herself over the fence with what looked like easy grace. But the muscles bulging out of her arms said differently. She landed on the other side and I could barely see her through the fence and moss, just an almost figure.

Daryl helped lift me over, and Michonne waited on the other side, ready to attempt to catch me if I fell. I landed with a thud, nearly falling over and somehow managing to straighten myself out.

Daryl followed, hoping over and landing beside us. He did fall, crouching down by the gate and cussing. He looked at his palms, now slightly red and dirty.

We wordlessly decided to get going, walking first up the hill.

Michonne walked a step in front of me and Daryl was a step behind me. The only sounds were our feet against the pavement, which looked like it hadn't been used in what seemed like forever.

I looked back at Daryl, who was still pissed about his hands, and nearly laughed. I slowed down a bit and grabbed one of his hands. I kissed one of the tiny cuts and dropped it, moving on to the next one. I kissed it too, and watched his bewildered expression.

"That help any?" I asked sarcastically, holding his hand for as long as possible before letting it drop down with the other one.

He scoffed, and we kept walking.

The drive way was about a mile long, turning and going up and down. It was large, but not over empowering. It was a brick house, two stories according to the windows and guessing that the top row was an attic. On the side was an obvious cellar door, bright red that looked liked maybe a tornado shelter? They were metal and red, alarmingly red, although part of the paint was chipped away.

The house had a large porch, just seven cement steps and then a large cement slab. There was a porch swing on the right side, by a window, and a table and chairs, a few overturned, on the right. Smack dab in the middle was a tall white door, over it a glass storm door.

The house scared me and I instinctively grabbed Daryl's hand and squeezed. He squeezed back. We dropped our hands, both reaching for our weapons. Michonne already had her sword out and my gun was soon hanging limply by my side as Daryl held up his bow. We stepped back as Daryl tried the door. Locked. He leaned back, kicking it in. The old door gave way easily, slowly opening. We all three looked at each other before slowly walking in.

/

Review Review Review! Xx sorry for the short chapters. I promise they'll get longer.


	36. Chapter 36

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX  
We slowly walked inside the dusty old house, both of my hands on my gun. My heart raced with anticipation.

The room was large with two white marble staircases on either side. There was a small, desk like table in the middle of the black floor, white with a broken vase. Maybe at one point it held beautiful bouquets of flowers. But now it was cracked and pieces of glass littered the floor. On both sides of the desk were old fashioned little chairs. White and wooden. One was toppled over, missing part of a leg. The other stood across from it, almost proud looking. It was such a large room to be so empty.

I held my breath as Daryl signaled for us to follow him, heading to one of the two giant archways. He led us through a small parlor like room. The walls were a light pink and the carpet was probably once white with a gold window seat and a black baby grand piano. It seemed to shine in what little light there was, even though it was covered in dust.

We walked through the room on to a giant dining room. A mahogany table stretched across the room, four matching chairs on each side, two on the ends. A deep green table cloth laid in the middle, three candle sticks sat on top of it. One of the candles were broken in half on it, but everything else was near perfection. A window stretched tall behind the table, about as tall as Daryl and nearly as wide as the room itself. You could see the side of the yard from it, continually stretching.

We moved through a swinging door into the kitchen. Just as large and fancy as a five star hotel kitchen. This is where we seen the first walker. Daryl took it out with a quick arrow and we moved on from it.

With every step I anticipated opening a door to find a hundred walkers, every sound I heard I involuntarily squeaked, blushing a deep red every time. We eventually made it into the living room. A red couch with a matching chair and love seat were ordered around a gold rug. The entire room was overly large and there was no tv. There were three long windows facing the back of the yard. The yard seemed to stretch on forever and forever.

No walkers, so we found ourselves back in the first, lobby like room. We went up the left stair case, my hand never leaving my gun, although I let one hand go to crawl up the hand rail.

Upstairs there were four bedrooms, each with a private bathroom and a walk in closet. Each bedroom had a twin bed, only the master bedroom having a king sized bed. They were all beautiful with rich looking comforters and expensive vanities and dressers. Only two of the rooms actually had anything in it. The master bedroom, where we took down four walkers, and what seemed to be a nursery.

There were boxes and suitcases packed, nearly overflowing with stuff. I supposed the family before us was planning on leaving. Wether or not they ever did, I wasn't sure.

"So," Daryl began, looking tired. The sun had set now and we were in the master bedroom, fixing to leave. "Does this seem like a good place?"

"Better than good," I answered, eyeing the king sized bed with it's light yellow comforter and comfortable looking pillows. I blushed awkwardly, my thoughts somewhere else.

"But we haven't seen a water supply yet," Michonne reasoned. She was right. It would be difficult without a source of water to work with it.

"But this land goes on forever. Maybe they used well water or something," Daryl shrugged. "We can come back tomorrow morning and check out the land. See how far back it goes and if it's all fenced in or not. If it, we may be lucky enough to not even have to worry about that. We're sure to find some sort of water."

"I guess. It'll be better than that campsite at least. We can go home, get some rest, and then in the morning we can pack everything. We don't have much anyway. Then we can come up here and make sure everything checks out ok."

Daryl nodded and I did too. I was giddy with excitement about finally having another place to stay. And a beautiful place at that.

"This place reminds me of the farm," Daryl commented as we walked out of the room.

"Why?" I asked, slightly afraid. I'd heard what happened at the farm. It was over run in the middle of the night. Lots of chaos at what was a seemingly safe place. I didn't need that to happen here.

"It's just old," he said faintly, walking through the door and disappearing into another room. As Michonne looked around the room I followed him.

It was the nursery with it's yellow walls and light brown crib. Everything seemed distraughtly beautiful. It was almost sad.

Daryl stood in the middle of the room and picked up a book on the small, overturned shelf and sat down. I walked up behind him and wondered if he was thinking about the baby.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I asked, standing a few feet away.

"Do you think the baby was ever born?" he asked, looking at the colorful pictures of the book. He turned each page slowly, as if he was really sinking in the information.

"What baby?" I asked, sitting down beside him, leaving about a foot in between. We weren't to the point of being all over each other again.

"The baby that this room was for," he said softly, setting the book down.

I shrugged, leaning back on my hands. What an odd question.

"It's possible, I guess. Not every baby dies."

Why did I say that? It sounded so rude and sarcastic. It wasn't supposed to come out like that.

"Well, I know that, Kyra. I'm not stupid-"

"I wasn't suggesting you were," I mumbled.

"Anyway," he sighed, "I'm just curious. If we do stay here, it'd be a nice place to have kids, huh?" he asked, and my mind went back to the conversation we had after the baby. That he wanted kids and wanted to be a dad. I figured with our arrangements, we wouldn't even talk about it for a long long time. I wasn't even sure if I wanted kids.

"Yeah," was all I said, reaching over and taking his hand in mine. We sat there for awhile, just holding hands awkwardly. I wish I could read thoughts. That'd be nice.

"Daryl," I started, unsure what to say. There was no light coming in through the windows now and I dreaded having to make the long creepy car trip.

"We should get a dog," he announced, standing up and holding a hand out. I grabbed it and he pulled me up. What a random thing to say. A dog?

"If you can find one.." I gave him a weird look and he smiled.

"I think I could eventually. I've always wanted a dog."

"You want everything," I nudged him playfully.

"I do not," he nudged back, turning to look out the window. "We should get going."

"I suppose," I frowned, wishing that we could just stay here. I was hungry and sleepy and my head ache hadn't actually dulled. Plus, Daryl and I were really talking.

"Come on," he threw an arm around my shoulders and we walked out of the room and down the stairs. Michonne was waiting at the small table, picking up pieces of glass and putting it in the vase. She looked at us and hid her smile.

We all three walked outside, making our journey back to the cars. We stayed silent as our shoes hit the pavement. Daryl shrugged his shoulder off, and I tried to hide my frown. I liked being able to touch him again.

I slid my hand into his and he tugged me closer as we walk. The semi frown vanished as my grin appeared. It was like we were a fresh couple, still in the honeymoon phase.

As we neared the gate, I thought about getting on the back of Daryl's bike. But, the thing already scared me and with it being dark, there was no way I was going to.

So, I got in the car with Michonne and thus our ride home began.

At the campsite, I nestled next to Daryl in the tent. It was good to be able to do that again, to wrap my arms around him and lay my head on his chest. No kissing, no sex. Just cuddling. It was alright for now. It would do.

But, the new place meant a new beginning. A new life for Daryl and I. Maybe we could finally have a kid. And maybe we could take in stragglers, and eventually Michonne could find someone. The possibilities about the new place were endless. I eventually fell asleep as the tree stand dream slowly made it way into my mind. But, I was happy and by morning, my mind would be on other things.


	37. Chapter 37

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN  
I woke up to an empty bed. At first I was confused, thinking that maybe I had sent Daryl away last night and all the cuddling had been a figment of my imagination; a dream conjured from my wanting of Daryl and our happiness. But, after I wiped sleep out of my eyes and came to, I realized that it wasn't a dream. It had really happened.

I waited for a little bit, wondering if he'd come back or if I'd hear his voice outside. Somebody had started the fire, but there weren't two voices. So either Michonne was still asleep, or Daryl was off somewhere. It was also very possible that Daryl had gotten too hot last night and crawled out to find a better arrangement.

I crawled out of the tent, to be greeted by a Michonne eating her daily oatmeal. I have her a quick smile and looked around, no sign of Daryl. Had he gone to get something from the car? Was he taking a piss?

"Where's Daryl?" I asked, stretching out my legs. I walked over to her, my hands in my pajama pants pockets as I stood by the fire. It wasn't cold really, but there was a slight summer morning chill.

"You just missed him," she looked up from her bowl, her face grim. I went rigid. Oh god.

"Where's Daryl?" I repeated, scanning the woods for him like he'd pop out and say 'here I am!'

"He went to the cabin, but listen Kyra-" I cut her off.

"How could you not wake me up!?" I screamed, stunned by her obviously stupid actions. It was basically betrayal.

"You have to let him do this!" Michonne stood up and I wanted to punch her in the face. Of course I wouldn't because Michonne was a bad ass who could lay me out, I was not. "I know how he feels. I wanted to hurt the Governor, and I'll always live with that! You have to let him-"

"No, Michonne! This was my battle!" I screamed. "I needed this! Not him!" I spun on my heels, my bare feet crunching against leaves as I sprinted away from the campsite, to the cabin.

Michonne called after me, but she didn't chase me. With every step, her voice began getting more distant and eventually I could no longer hear it.

God this was so much further than I remember. It felt like time was slowing down to an absolute nothing. My foot stomped on a random rock and I cried out from the pain, knowing it would hurt for a little bit. But, I kept going, ignoring the early signs of my daily head ache and pushing through. I came to the creek, and stopped. I could see the door slam shut from the back of the cabin and my heart pounded faster again.

I tore off again, slipping through the creek and nearly falling. But, eventually I reached the end and then I was back to running. My feet pounded against gravel and dirt and random sharp objects that I swear weren't there before, but I didn't feel anything. If he killed Jack before I could, so help me god I would never forgive him.

I ran up the stairs, trying to not trip. I've tripped up the steep things just walking, let alone running. I reached the door at what felt like hours later.

I jerked the wooden door open and stomped inside to see Miriam screaming, cowering in a corner with Belle underneath her, crying, and Daryl, angry and shouting at Jack, who was pinned to the wall by Daryl.

"Daryl!" I screamed, running over, he threw Jack on the floor, who curled up in a ball, already bleeding from the nose and would probably have a black eye from the looks of it.

"Kyra," he turned to me and it was the first time I'd truly seen him angry. Like he could really kill someone out of just anger, "get out of here. It'll all be over in a minute." What the hell?

He pulled out a gun from his pocket, my gun. I looked over to see Miriam's eyes widen and her fly to put a hand over Belle's eyes.

"Daryl! Please don't do this!" she screamed over and over again.

"Get her out of here," I told her, pointing at Belle and then the door. Daryl was busy loading one bullet in the gun. Miriam stared at me dumbfounded. "Now!" I screamed.

"Do we wait on the porch?" she asked and I was then reminded of how stupid she was.

"No! Get in the truck and just keep driving. Don't come back for at least an hour." I ordered, waiting only until she ran out of the door with Belle before I turned back to Daryl.

I grabbed his arm and attempted to pull him away. His hands were shaking and he had just now put the bullet in.

"Daryl, no!" I yelled, failing at dragging him away. "You promised I could do this! You know that I need to do this!"

Jack crawled over to me, his hands clinging to my foot.

"Please, Kyra, please," he begged. I wanted to vomit.

"Get off her!" Daryl yelled, reading back and kicking Jack in the ribs repeatedly.

"Daryl!" I screamed, trying to push him off Jack. It only made him worse. He bent down and picked Jack up by his shirt, throwing him into the fire place. He landed with a sickening thud. Something was definitely broken. Jack cried out, arching his back in pain. He whimpered as he tried to crawl away from Daryl, who marched over and pulled Jack up by his hair. Jack screamed and Daryl shoved him face first into the brick.

"Stop it!" I dove in front of him, prying him away from Jack as I pushed him further from Daryl with my foot. He was conscious, but barely.

"Daryl," he pressed against me, looking over my head at Jack. He sneered when I pushed him back, "Daryl," I tried again, both of my hands firmly on his chest, "breathe. You said I could do this. Now why the hell you came in here and beat the living hell out of him in front of his family, I will never understand. But, I have to do this, Daryl." I was eerily calm, saying every word with meaning. I was trying to get through his anger, but his eyes were clouded over and he shook with repressed anger.

He pushed past me, knocking me into the small drawer by the couch. I quickly got up in time to see him whip my gun out and point it in Jacks face, who began weeping.

"Daryl, you're a good man," he slurred, his nose was definitely broken. It was bleeding in two different place, out his nostrils and from a cut at the bridge, and I swear I could see gone.

"No, I'm not," Daryl responded curtly, kicking Jack in the gut. Even I shrank back at his words. Daryl was a good man, a great man. Did he not know that? He had saved people, killed himself trying to save children who couldn't defend themselves, he rose from his battered back ground and was someone his brother could never be. How did he think he wasn't a good person?

He picked Jack back up, even though he was still on his knees, his head was up. He looked like a sinner begging for forgiveness at a church and my mind flashed back to the time at the prison when Daryl was giving presents out to kids and I had joked that they looked at him like he was Jesus. Now, with Jack begging for mercy and Daryl pointing a gun at his face, I would never joke about that again.

Daryl glanced at me and with one anger filled movement, he thrusted the gun in my hand and pushed me forward. So, I was supposed to kill him? I didn't think this moment would happen for a good long while. But here I was with the perfect opportunity. I felt like this was a Bonnie and Clyde moment. Daryl beat the living shit out of this man and I was the one who got to finally end it all in one sweet moment.

But as I pulled the hammer back and pushed the gun against his forehead, even through Jack's sobs and cries for mercy, I thought about Belle and Miriam. I thought about my dad. I had figured that people killing people was over. That everybody just needed to help everybody now. But, my dad had been shot and killed. I hated the Governor for it. So, what makes me any better?

'You were raped by this man,' a voice whispered in my head, 'he took your purity, bruised you, hurt you. It's only right that he gets what was coming to him.' But does he?

I frustratingly hit him with the handle of the gun in the side of the head. He fell over, already weak.

"God!" I screamed, shooting the gun through the window and throwing the unloaded weapon in the floor. At the sound of the shot, Jack had screamed and covered his head. But all that hit him were flying shards of glass. My ears were ringing, but I continued. "Do you know what's sick?" I asked, bending down beside Jack. "You raped me. You hurt me. You're the reason I have this stupid bulky bandage on my head," I gestured to my head, still wrapped up. Michonne was going to cut the stitches out in two days. "And I can't even kill you!" I pushed his shoulder and he bounced back like a balloon.

"Why?" He asked weakly. Good.

"Because, I can't waste me being a good person on slum like you. Daryl is too good to do it. I won't let him do it. Because you are going to die. You'll get bit by a Walker or maybe Miriam will come to and kill your ass in your sleep, but you'll die. And when you do God will judge you." I lowered my voice to attempt to sound more threatening. I think it worked. "You will have to stand before him and confess to him. What will he say when you tell him you raped me?" I slowly stood up, leaving him laying in the floor. I should have killed him when I had the chance. When the atmosphere was right. I knew Daryl was disappointed in me. But he didn't know how pissed I was at him.

Daryl picked up the gun and walked out the door. I spit on Jack before I left, swiftly turning and following behind Daryl.

I was boiling, my emotional level about to tip over board. Too much had happened in a ten minute time frame. I wanted to scream and howl and punch stuff. But I walked past Daryl, my bare feet beginning to hurt as my adrenaline wore off.

"Kyra," he said stiffly, reaching for me. I spun around to face him, trying not to yell.

"No. No, Daryl. Don't touch me, don't talk to me, don't look at me." I pointed a shaking finger at him and waited for his response.

"You came all the way from the camp bare footed?" was all he asked, tilting his head and looking at my extremely dirty feet. I threw my hands up in the air in frustration.

"Yes! Because god knows what you would have done if I wouldn't have came when I did!" I yelled, my eyes slanted accusingly and I pursed my lips.

"I got scared. I didn't want to leave and never have the satisfaction of being able to beat the living hell out of him." It was a good point. We were leaving today and if all checked out, we wouldn't be coming back.

I sighed loudly, putting one hand on my hip. I rolled my eyes dramatically and he smiled lightly.

"You should have at least told me," I mumbled, realizing I didn't want to argue. We were spending too much time arguing.

"Come on, sassy pants," he started walking. "Do your feet hurt?"

"Uh, yes. And if you ever call me sassy pants again I may hit you," I joked. It was unbelievable. We about committed a tag team murder in there and now we were joking around.

"I'll give you a ride," he said, stopping and bending slightly. I jumped on his back and wrapped my legs around his waist. Both of his hands went around my legs and we continued our journey, my arms hanging lazily around his shoulders.

"Are we both satisfied?" he asked a moment later after we'd crossed the creek.

"I am. Are you?" I asked, running my index finger over his collar bone, something I found he rather enjoyed.

"For now," he said it nonchalantly, like he could just comeback whenever and finish the job if needed.

"Daryl, after we leave we're not coming back," I warned him, my other hand snaked it's way in his shirt through his missing sleeve and danced across his chest.

"Are you trying make me avoid this topic?" he asked, one hand rubbing my bare leg instead of holding it. I was desperately glad I chose shorts once again over jeans.

"No, just enjoying this," I nibbled his ear, and chuckled, resting my head on top of his.

"Well, you're a tease. I've learned that over the year I've known you."

Had it really only been a year? I felt like we've known each other for years upon years.

"I'll tell you what," I said, kissing the top of his head.

"What?"

"When we get settled in, we'll do more than tease," I whispered as the camp ground came into view.

"Sounds good to me," he grunted, dropping me.

/

Have any of you seen Norman Reedus in his early twenties? Good god that man. Phew. Just think how gorgeous he is now. Now, flash back to twenty years ago. My my!

Review!

I thought about doing a sequel to this story, (it's still got a few chapters left but idk) but I don't know. Maybe I'll just do an epilogue and end it after a few more chapters. What'd you say? I would need some loyal fans because the sequel would purely have nothing to do with the actual show.


	38. Chapter 38

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT  
We managed to pack our small camp into the trunk and back seat of Michonne's car. As we pulled out and I opened the gate for them, I looked back at the cabin for one last time. I looked at the thing and thought: they may last through this entire apocalypse, or they'll foolishly get themselves killed. Even though I had a terrible experience with this place, I couldn't help but silently thank it. It was Daryl's shelter when his family sent him away, they took all the three of us in and I fell in love with Belle. Now, I was turning back and would never see it again. Something from the window caught my eye and I could barely see Jack standing in the window frame. I quickly turned, not wanting look at his beaten face as he prayed for his family to return home.

I jumped on the back of Daryl's motorcycle, wrapping my arms around his waist as he took off, trying his best to scare me. I smiled to his back, knowing he'd do anything to make me press harder against him. Maybe I would just for the hell of it.

As we went down the drive way, I felt a new sensation. It was like a thousands pounds were being lifted off my chest and I could finally breathe. I was leaving that place. I was leaving Jack and fear behind. I never wanted to see that place again. I never wanted to talk about it after this. Never wanted to thing about it.

I leaned down so my forehead was pressed against one of Daryl's shoulders. I was so happy, probably more happy than when we'd actually found the new place. I'm excited for the future and all the possibilities that that place could hold. We could take in people like we did at the prison, we could start all over again. A new life that was run by us, not Rick, not Jack. But the three of us. Our little family.

I kissed Daryl's shoulder as my hands played with the end of his shirt, my hands slipping up and running over his stomach and sides. Lord how I missed these bike rides. I missed everything about him. Another thing to be happy about. We were really us again. We were the normal teasing, silly, awkward Daryl and Kyra. (Not awkward for us. Awkward for everyone around us.) There was a lot of beauty to that.

His hand came down to my knee and I suppressed a grin when I didn't flinch or jerk. He patted the knee and then his hand slowly went back to his handle bars.

We were all happy. Even if this new place didn't have a water supply, we'd find a nearby one and haul jugs. We could get a truck or jeep or something. Somehow I would make things work out because I wanted this ride from the cabin to the 'house' to be the last one ever.

It probably wasn't the best idea to ride this thing with my stitches, but I could care less. Michonne was taking them out tomorrow anyway, so I didn't see why a day would really matter any way.

I extended my arms, hands still firmly clinging to Daryl, and leaned back. I felt like everything was really over. Now to just make this new place a home.

/

So, this chapter is like super short. Like make three hundred words short. I'm so so sorry. But! I need my reviewers to take a sort of vote. (If you're not a reviewer and just read, you can too!) if I get five people to ask for a sequel, I'll make one! (But, as I said before, this story isn't over.)

100 followers! I love you guys3


	39. Chapter 39

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE  
I opened up my suitcase, kneeling down beside it as I sat in the middle of the master bedroom Michonne had willingly, with a mischievous grin, given to Daryl and I. Both her and Daryl were taking a car ride around the land, seeing how far it went and what needed fixing. I had only agreed to staying behind and 'getting a head start' on unpacking what little we had because Daryl had promised to sneak me out later. I was still the innocent girl who couldn't hold her own weight in their eyes.

I took out a few clothes; two old shirts, a pair of pajama pants, and my beloved boxer shorts. I sorted them through the giant dresser, even being able to hang up some clothes. That was really cool. I had been folding clothes for forever. It was nice to be able to put something on a hanger and feel like a responsible person.

We already had a game plan. First, we'd find a source of water. It didn't have to be on the land exactly, just close enough that we could visit maybe every other day and stock up without wasting too much gas. For now, we wouldn't be able to have a shower system, so we'd stick to baths.

Next, we'd find an abandoned place, looking at old cabins right now seeing as how they're the most obvious place, and get a gas stove, because unfortunately, this place had an electric. It already had a gas tank outside thanks to the place having heaters. So, we'd just need to find out how to refill it and we'd be set for that. Luckily, whatever moron built this put in a gas heater and fire places in both the master bedroom and the living room. And with is being summer, we wouldn't even need those for a while.

And the rest was to get settled in. Move anything that creeped us out, out of the house, and dust and make it look like a welcoming place. I was so excited that I was literally shaking.

After I packed Daryl and mines clothes, I decided on looking through the few boxes left from who ever had lived her before. The first box was full of clothes that I decided to store in one of the empty bedrooms, thinking you'd never know when it could come in handy. The second had different picture frames wrapped up in paper towels. I sat down on the large bed, pulling the box to me as I unwrapped the first one. It was a snap shot of a little girl in a pool, her blonde pigtails soaked and a large toothy grin spread across her face. I frowned, my gut twisting. I really really hoped this family got out alive. I almost didn't want to go through the rest, now wanting to feel the heart ache of wondering if this family made it. But I eventually unwrapped the second one. This one was an orderly picture of a family of four. I recognized the little girl from the last picture instantly. She looked a few years older. There was what seemed to be a mom, a dad, the little girl who was probably nine, and a toddler boy. They were all wearing different color of bright polo shirts, sitting by a river. They looked beautiful.

I quickly moved on, the heart ache worsening. I didn't know if I was going to be able to take much more of this. So, I promised myself this would be the very last picture. I unwrapped, throwing the musty paper towel beside the others in the floor. It was a picture of a little baby. The gender, I wasn't sure of. But it couldn't be more than six months old, laying in a black background as it looked up at the camera, clad in a diaper only. One tiny, pudgy hand reached for whoever was taking the picture, a curious smile on it's adorable face. A burst of happiness went through me. The baby had been born. I could give Daryl the answer to his peculiar question. But it was soon drowned out by the rest of my thoughts: had it survived?

I quickly set the picture down in the box with the other ones and hauled it into the empty room that is basically the storage room. I opened the closet and stood on my tip toes, setting it on top of the shelf in the back of the closet. I pushed it back and prayed Daryl wouldn't look in here. I couldn't have him worrying about that baby. He had dropped the subject for now, and I needed for it to stay that way.

I decided that was enough unpacking and settled on cleaning the place up a bit instead. I went down stairs, my gun on my hip because I didn't like being alone and as of now have major trust issues. I walked into the living room, a paper towel roll and a bottle of wood duster we found in the bottom of the sink in both hands. I tore off a piece and got started with first, the fire place. I dusted it off and all the little ornaments that were placed around it, glad I didn't stumble on any sentimental object that could stir more questions in Daryl's mind.

I had completely cleaned the living room when the door opened, and in came a sweaty Michonne and Daryl. They walked in and Michonne plopped down on the couch and Daryl slumped in the over stuffed red chair. They both looked around, noticing the layers of dust gone and the light finally coming in through the giant windows.

"Living room looks good," Michonne commented, now sprawled out on the couch.

"Thanks," I stood in the middle of the room awkwardly.

Daryl patted his lap and waved me over, so I walked over and sat down, putting my arm over his shoulders, his arm snaked around my waist. Even though he was sweaty, lately we'd been putting in as much physical contact as possible. Just like we used to..

"How'd it go?" I asked, the silence in the air was getting to me and I'd been wanting to know everything anyways.

"The land is fenced in, but just by barb wire. We'll have to rig something better up soon," Daryl answered me, his hand had found my behind. I tried not to blush and thanked my lucky stars that I had sat facing Michonne. Lord how she'd tease me.

"And water?" I asked, my cheeks growing a steady rose color.

"We found a little stream about a mile down. That'll do us a little good until we can find a better source. We'll have to be careful how much water we use," Michonne was the one to answer this time. She gave me an odd look.

"Oh, that's good," I put on a small smile.

"I think I'm gonna go to the back porch and read," she stood up, picking her book on the coffee table she'd left there earlier, and giving me a knowing look she walked out.

Daryl and I sat there in silence, my hand playing with his hair and his hand still exploring my butt. A minute went by, another one.

"Did you get our stuff unpacked?" He finally asked, shifting so we were halfway facing each other.

"Uh, yeah. Most of it," I answered, my other hand ran up and down his arm.

"Well I think I'll have a look," he said nodding, and I smiled. I stood up and he followed. We walked up the large staircase and down the hall into our bedroom.

I stood in the door way, looking at the large room and it's giant bed. He crept behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist. He set his head on top of mine. More silence.

"It looks good," his voice was slightly husky and I guessed he had the same thoughts as me.

"I think it'd look even better if our clothes were on the floor," I whispered, surprised I'd said it.

He chuckled, his hand snaking down to the button on my pants. I turned to face him, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him into a kiss. His hands fumbled with unbuttoning my pants before he was able to pull them down. I kicked them off, pulling us closer as soon as I managed to slip them over my feet. His hand journeyed down into my underwear and I moaned against his mouth. God I missed this.

We stumbled to the bed and he crawled on top of me, his sexy smirk never wavering. I pulled him to me, reconnecting our kiss as his hand continued it's work downstairs. I moaned again, quickly unbuttoning his shirt and somehow managing to get it off.

I pulled away, working on his neck and ears. I scratched at his back and shoulders and I tried not to buck my hips.

I nibbled the lobe of his ear, my hands fumbling to get his pants off. His fingers pulled out of me and he did it himself, throwing them on the floor. I gawked at his appearance, now only in his underwear.

I rolled over so I was on top of him, straddling his waist and restraining his arms by holding his wrist to the bed. I kissed down his neck to his chest, teasing him with my tongue. It was his turn to let out a low, husky grunt. Damn, that was hot.

Eventually, we were both naked and making love, moans and choice words escaping our lips. I was under him again, watching him work on top of me. His hand was on my hip, while the other one cupped a boob. This was pleasure.

/

Well, looks like I'll be doing a sequel! You guys are the best ever! Love you all. Review!


	40. Chapter 40

CHAPTER FORTY  
One of the most glorious sights I've ever seen would have to be waking up and rolling over to see Daryl asleep. It's adorable. Between his mouth half open, his light snoring, and his arm hanging half way off the bed, he was like sleeping perfection. Plus, awake or not, he looked good shirtless. And that's how he slept 99.9% of the time, especially right after we'd had a night like last night.

I pulled the sheet up to my chest, covering myself, and scooted beside him, laying my head on his chest. I poked him in the ribs and he grunted, opening one eye and nodding at me. I stifled a smile and wrapped my arms around him, kissing the skin by my mouth. He laid his arm around my shoulder, hugging me to him.

We laid there like that, my hair in a messy bun and his hair sticking in every direction possible. Eventually he started snoring lightly again, waking himself up every time it happened. Even when he couldn't hold his eyes open, somehow he was perfect.

Through the window in our room I could see the gray morning outside. The sun hadn't exactly risen, and I wasn't normally awake this early. But I was wide awake, thinking of last night and it's events. We had stayed locked up in our room the remainder of the day, laying beside each other, staring at the ceiling. Then one of us, normally Daryl, would get the itch shortly after and we'd fool around again. I counted in my head how many times we'd had sex and counted six. I smiled, that was our personal record.

It was also the best sex we'd had in a long long time. The only time I could remember topping it would be that time in the shed, and that's only because I had lost my virginity and it was a glorious occasion. The sex probably wasn't even as good as I remembered, but it was my first time. And Daryl certainly was good. He was better than good. And for a man in his forties, he had the stamina of a bull!

I thought about our first time, the time in the shed. I was scared for my life, Daryl dropping his bow in the process of running from the walkers and there were too many for the six bullets I had. So we'd ran for our lives, making it to the shed and hiding. The shed was tiny, only enough room for a tool bench and one tiny window. Of course it was crammed full of crap and had a terrible musty odor. Daryl had turned to tell me they'd walked right past us, and didn't know I was peeking over his shoulder. We were inches apart and I could feel his uneven, nervous breath on my face, from running and from being confined in a small area with me. We hadn't really talked about that kiss and avoided any contact.

"Daryl," I had whispered, my hands getting clammy as we stared at each other.

"Kyra," he had responded, his chest rising and falling.

I was the one to make the first move, standing on my tiptoes to close the tiny gap between us. My kiss was unsure and felt awkward, he didn't really kiss back and I did the work, all he contributed was opening his mouth slightly. After only two seconds I had pulled away, feeling miserable. He hadn't kissed back.

"I'm sorry," I had mumbled, looking at the ground and Daryl's feet. Those feet moved towards me.

"Don't be," he reconnected our kiss, slow at first, but only moments later we were more passionate and eager.

In the events that had happened that day, the herd, him dropping his precious bow, and the tension between us, things had escalated very quickly. I was soon sitting on the tool bench, my legs wrapped around Daryl as I was now barely an inch taller than him, having to lean down slightly to kiss him. His hands were taking my shirt off, and as we pulled away to get it over my head, the lust that clouded his eyes seemed to dim a little.

"We can't do this.." he nearly growled, voice husky and low. Thinking back, it made me nervous. But now that voice excites me.

"Why not?" I had asked, now craving his touch. My hands balled up handfuls of his shirt. I was shirtless, and now extremely horny. He couldn't do that to me.

"Kyra, I shouldn't have kissed you.. I-" he pulled his hands behind his head and sighed loudly. I pulled him closer, my knee meeting his groin and lightly pressing against it.

"I don't care what they think," I whispered, our faces were so close our noses were grazing each other.

"I know. And I don't either, it's just not right."

Instead of arguing, I had kissed him again. He was back to being unresponsive, but I continued, unbuttoning his shirt and then throwing it on the ground by my shirt. His arms hung numbly by his sides, but he didn't fight it, so I grabbed his wrist and pulled his arms around me. They settled there, not moving but not pulling away either.

I pulled away slightly, just leaving enough room for my mouth to move.

"Do something," I whispered, pricks of tears burning my eyes.

There was silence, and then he had moved, pulling me closer, even though there was no room in between us. He awkwardly unhooked my bra, letting it join the other banished clothes in the floor.

He had left my lips to move his else where. That day was my first for a lot of things. And that was something I had never even thought about. But, it was amazing. His lips closed around my nipple, and I sucked in a sharp breath, my hands racing to his hair.

And it all went down to the real thing. To us moving around so we were in a corner, my back pressed against the wall and he held me up slightly as he thrusted into me. I stifled screams as I pulled at his hair, not being able to believe anything that was happening. It was a wonder I hadn't ended up pregnant. After a short time, he had unloaded into me. He pulled out and we stood there, shaking and looking at each other.

I brought myself back to today's day and time, looking back over at Daryl. That seemed so long ago, it was barely even a year ago. Possibly less.

We laid there until the sun started creeping over the hills, reaching for the land I was happy to call my own. I looked up at Daryl, the light snoring had stopped a few minutes earlier, to see he was already looking down at me.

"Morning," that morning grunt that I would never get over.

"Morning," I said softly, my hand running down his bare stomach under the blanket.

We laid there, his hands moved up and down my back, leaving chills where ever he touched. I shivered and pressed against him, probably his original motive, anyway.

"Do you think Michonne heard us that time?" he asked after a little bit, a small smile on his face as he reached for a pack of cigarettes he kept on the bedside table. His arm left me for just a moment to light the awful thing, and then it was back in place, running down my back. I blushed. She probably did. We had stayed in our room all day, she couldn't have just sat out there and read forever.

"Probably," I shrugged, making my cover slide down a little. I quickly picked it back up. But he had already had a peek.

"Do you care?" he asked, blowing smoke out of his nose.

I thought about it for a second. And in all honesty I didn't. She would tease me about it for a few days, and maybe randomly throughout our lives, (sigh) but I could deal with that for a night of pure pleasure.

"Nope," I answered him, stretching across him to reach for his wrist. I pulled his hand over and put my lips around the end of the cigarette, still in his hands. I let go, leaning back and blowing the smoke out of my mouth. I had done some crazy things the past year, but that probably topped it.

"When'd you start smoking?" he asked, one eye brow raised. I leaned my head back, stretching my neck and exposing a fair amount of cleavage.

"About thirty seconds ago," I answered, looking at the ceiling. It had a normal pattern you'd see in any old house, just a white ceiling. It didn't fit in with the rest of the luxury house.

Daryl didn't say anything, so we just sat there in comfortable silence. I listened to him breath and watched the smoke curl up. Eventually, I would make him quit smoking. But, I could live with it for a little while.

"Kyra," he started, making me shift so I was on my stomach, looking up at him. His eyes darted to my breast, and then back up to my face. I gave him a look that he chose to ignore, "we should get married."

I looked at him with surprise. Daryl wasn't really the type to just flat out say that. And he wasn't stupid. So why was he acting stupid?

"We already are," I told him, my hands on his chest as my feet lifted behind me.

"No, I mean really get married."

"What are we supposed to do? Go down to the court and sign an official document?" I asked, giving him a strange look. At one time I wanted us to have a real wedding too, but good lord we were basically already married. What'd he want us to do? I'd say there weren't any priest around. I had those thoughts when Hershel was around. He was a godly man who could say a few words. But we hadn't seen him in months.

"No, you said awhile back you just wanted to say some vows and get drunk after, we can do that!" he sighed, his other hand was pressed against the back of his head now.

"Yeah, I guess. But, I'm content with this if you are," I wasn't sure if he wanted to do this or if he wanted to do it for my sake.

"I'm not. I'm gonna go into town one day and get us some rings, and we'll have us a little ceremony," he nodded, taking another drag of his cigarette. I shrugged.

"Sounds good to me," I told him, making a big show of leaning over him, taking the cigarette, and smothering it in the ash tray.

"I wasn't finished with that," he pouted, looking up at me now that I was more than half way on top of him now. I moved so I was laying on top of him, elbows pressed in his chest and my chin rested on my hands.

"I can think of something better to do," I smiled, winking foolishly at him.

"Well, in that case.."


	41. Chapter 41

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE  
I sat in one of the dining room chairs in the kitchen. I gripped Daryl's hand in mine, the other one balled up in a tight fist. My jaw was locked and I squinted my eyes closed.

"Ok, now be still it won't hurt.." Michonne said above my head. She had a pair of scissors, ready to cut out my stitches.

It didn't hurt, just kind of stung. She pulled them out quickly, and I let out a quick, whisper 'fuck!' at the first one. Daryl scoffed, leaning against the counter beside me.

"Alright, I'm almost done," she pulled out the last one, it tugged a bit at the skin, and then it was gone.

I opened my eyes, grimacing.

"So, what about the bald spot?" I asked, reaching up to touch the new skin.

"The places where we had to shave are already growing back hair. I'd say it'll cover your scar eventually," Michonne walked around the chair, sitting up on the counter.

"Until then, I'm never wearing my hair down," I frowned, dropping Daryl's hand and crossing my arms over my chest.

"It's not that bad, Kyra." Daryl patted my shoulder. Bluh.

"You have to say that," I mumbled, slumping down. I was happy that the stitches were out, but I was embarrassed by it all. It was stupid. Ugh.

"I can try and cut it to where it hides it better, but after the other hair grows out, your not going to be able to tell. I promise," Michonne still held the scissors in one of her hands.

"Do you see how long my hair is?" I asked, "It'll take forever for it to be even!"

And I sure as hell didn't want those scissors to cut anymore off.. I had a very odd attachment to my hair.

They both looked at me and I sighed.

"Can I say bye to it first?" I mumbled, half joking.

"Yeah," Michonne joked back, rolling her eyes playfully. "I'll be in the other room."

But, she, of course, didn't budge.

"How short is it going to be?" I asked, nervously braiding a strand of my long hair. Would I even be able to braid it anymore?

"I'm not sure. I'm not a hair dresser. It's high, but it's low enough that when your hair does grow back, it'll cover the scar," she said again. I looked up at her through a strand of hair.

"Just chop it off," I groaned, hitting my head against the chairs back. Michonne shrugged and walked over, pulling my hair back.

I sat up straight, frowning. My hair had grown down to the bottom of my back, and now god knows how short it was going to be. I sighed loudly as Michonne gathered my hair in a low pony tail. I waited for it, eye brows pushed together. Daryl was smiling slightly, stifling laughs as I tried not to squirm.

I cringed at the first sound of the scissors cutting off my hair. Three long chops and the pony tail was now in the floor, scattered around. I stared at it, open mouthed. She took the hair bow out.

"Now, I just need to even it and we'll be done," Michonne told me, combing my hair out with her fingers. The sound of the scissors once again, and then she claimed she was done.

I stood up, brushing hair off my shoulders.

"I'm gonna go check this out in the mirror," I whimpered, refusing to even feel it yet. I left wordlessly.

It was bad enough that I had gotten stitches, a scar on my head, and the pain of it all. But now my hair was freakishly short.

I walked up to the private bathroom in my room, opening the curtains on the large window to let some light in. I stared at my reflection.

My hair barely made it below my chin and was even shorter in the back. I looked so different, ten times younger. Ok, maybe not ten times.. I looked like I was twelve instead of eighteen. I wanted to cry so bad right now. It was terrible and choppy and I needed my long hair back.

"It looks cute."

I spun around to see Daryl leaned up against the door way. I hadn't known he was there, and frankly he scared the hell out of me.

"No it doesn't. I look twelve," I mumbled, slouching and crossing my arms over my chest like I was, in fact, twelve.

He walked over and put his arms around me, laying his head on top of mine. For a moment, I continued pouting, refusing to hug him back. But, I loved it when he held me, so I gave in, sighing loudly and laying my head on his chest. I hugged him around his torso, taking in a deep breath and smelling him.

"No you don't. And it'll grow back eventually," he said above me. His arms tightened so I was locked in place. I loved it when his whole body just kind of tightened around me and ugh. The lust.

"Eventually means indefinitely," I argued, my cheek pressed against his chest. I closed my eyes, enjoying his warmth.

"Eventually means calm down, sunshine," he joked and I half chuckled.

He kissed the top of my head and his arms loosened around me. He stepped back, but my fingers grabbed at his belt loops, so he couldn't go too far. He grinned.

"Don't call me sunshine," I smirked, leaning back so I was pulling on the belt loops.

"Or what?" he asked, the foolish grin placed on his face.

"Or I'll refuse sex for a whole month," I winked, taking a step forward. He scoffed playfully.

"I've went on a longer dry spell than that," he shrugged.

"But your hand didn't, right?" I raised my eyebrows and tilted my head.

"Hey, I named it after you," it was his turn to wink.

I laughed, dropping my hands from his belt loops and walked out of the bathroom.

"Forget sunshine," Daryl said, following me, "Your nickname is Teaser."

"Sounds good to me," I told him, walking out of our room and into the hall way. I passed the nursery.

"See, you get me going and then-"

"I know what a tease is," I looked back at him, shaking my head. He grinned and rolled his eyes.

When I walked down the stairs and into the living room, I found Michonne curled up on the chair, reading yet another book.

"Do you like it?" she asked, not looking up.

"Yeah," I lied, sitting down on the couch and leaning my head back. It was time for a nap.

/

Guys! I'm so so so sorry for my two day delay! I had really bad writers block. Review!


	42. Chapter 42

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO  
This time Michonne was the one left behind. It felt awesome to just be out with Daryl. Better than awesome.

We weren't locked up in our rooms or hiding somewhere to be alone. We were out doing our own thing on his motorcycle, looking for a place with stupid rings. It was lovely.

Motorcycle rides were amazing because it gave me the excuse to be so close to him and not feel like I'm lustful. I could wrap my arms around him and say I was just holding on instead of hugging him, I could squeeze me legs closer to him, and say it was because I was scared instead of in the mood, I could press my chest against him and furrow my face in his back and say it was because of the wind instead of trying to get him in the mood. (Which wasn't really that hard once you got started.)

But, we were alone and Michonne wasn't riding our tails this time. So, I didn't have to pretend. I was riskier, my hands were under his shirt, teasing him. At one point I even massaged his chest muscles and ran my hands over his nipples. It had excited him, that was for sure. My hands were everywhere but his waist, I leaned up so I was pressed against him and rubbed his thighs, just on top and on the outside. I was going to work him up. I eventually moved to his inner thighs, grazing his penis and stifling laughter at how fidgety he was getting.

I was risky today. So, my hands moved up to his belt, and I slowly unbuckled it blindly. His hand came down to stop me, but I made him put it back on the handle bar. After his belt was loose, I unbuttoned his pants and in slithered my hands, rubbing his thighs like I did earlier. But, eventually I got tired of playing and I found his member, wrapping my hand around it. He was really excited now, swerving on the small road It made everything so much more fun.

I sat up, licking his ear lobe as I pumped him, moving down to his neck. I kissed, nibbled, and sucked on his skin, grinning at his white knuckles on the handlebars.

Before he went crazy, I retracted my hand and leaned back down, helping him buckle his pants back up.

I wrapped my arms back around him and smiled. I loved seeing him like that. He always had me on edge, so it was good to get him going.

We eventually made it the same town where the clinic that I got my stitches was at. There was a pawn shop that Daryl stopped in front of. It was a small orange building that didn't look very promising, but we were just looking for two rings.

I got off the bike, smiling down at Daryl, who looked like a mixture of pissed off and lustful.

"That wasn't cute," he mumbled, putting the kickstand down on his precious bike and standing up.

"No, your right," I frowned, looking down at the grown, "it was mother fucking hot!" I squealed, laughing. I doubled over, cracking my self up. It wasn't even really that funny. I was just happy.

"Ha. Ha." he retorted, shouldering his bow and handing me my gun. I wiped a tear out of my eye and took it from him, keeping it in my hand.

"You know you liked it," I whispered as we walked through the door. He turned his flash light on and swept down the front of the store.

"Yeah. Too much," he whispered back. I wasn't sure why we were whispering, but we were. And this place gave me the freaks.

There wasn't a lot in the store. It looked like it had been robbed, glass containers were broken and shelves had been tipped over. I doubted if we'd find one ring, let alone two.

Daryl walked over to one of the glass containers, crouching down and moving glass with his bow. I walked up behind him, bending down and wrapping my arms around his shoulders.

"We don't have to do this, you know," I said gently, kissing the top of his head.

"But, I want to," the same answer. Daryl never seemed to care about these type of things before. So, why did he all of a sudden? I didn't think it meant that much to him.

"Alright," I sighed, standing up and walking over to another case. There were a few cheap looking necklaces and a ring with a dragon fly on it, so I moved on.

We moved wordlessly for at least an hour, never finding anything but junk. Although, I did find a silver cross charm that probably belonged on a necklace and, without telling Daryl, put it in my pocket.

Finally, Daryl mumbled something and stood up, looking upset. He looked over at me as I picked up a golden eight ball.

"There's nothing but shit in here," he told me, one hand on his hip, the other used the bow as a sort of came, propping himself up as he leaned on it.

"Yup," I answered, running my hands through my short hair and huffing.

"Let's find some place else."

"Where else is a good place to look?" I asked, walking over a giant piece of glass, to Daryl. He shrugged, frustrated.

"Don't look so down. We can't always find what we want the first time," I put my hand on his arm, squeezing gently and letting slide down to his wrist. He moved to take hold my hand.

"I know. And I guess they don't have to be the best rings, but.." he shrugged again.

"Come on, we have plenty of time left to find these rings, ok?" I couldn't believe I was having to comfort him over something so small. Why did it mean so much to him?

We walked back to the motorcycle, Daryl fixing his bow and taking my gun and putting it in the saddle bag. He looked up at me.

"No shit this time, Kyra. I barely kept on the road last time," he warned me, but he was smiling, so I guess he wasn't really that mad.

"You want rings, I want to fool around," I pursed my lips with fake anger, tilting my chin up.

"We do that nearly every day. You'll survive," he patted the seat and turned to his bike, making it roar to life.

"Wow. Daryl Dixon refusing sex. Should I take a picture?" I asked, sitting on the bike behind him. He have me a look, ignoring my comment, and kicked the kick stand back.

We were on our way again, not going more than two miles before we stopped once again at an antique shop.

This place looked very, very homely. It was a small, two story brick building with old flowerpots strung around everywhere. This door was locked, so we had to break in. Daryl used one of the flower pots to break the glass in the door and unlocked it from the inside.

"I wonder why someone didn't try to break into this place?" I asked, walking in behind Daryl. He held his arm out, stopping me in my tracks.

There were four walkers slowly making their way to us, and I guessed that they were the owners and their two.. kids. I gulped, backing out of the door and gripping my gun.

Daryl backed out of the store, leading the walkers out before stabbing them with his knife, one by one.

I stared at the piled up bodies. "Do you think they committed suicide together?" I asked.

"Yeah," he was staring at the little girl, a sad look on his face.

He wordlessly walked through the door again, and with a last glance at the little girl and what was probably her older sister, I followed.

"I'm sure the thieves probably didn't think to look here. So, we may get lucky," Daryl commented absently, heading to a small shelf on the counter. It was clustered with different colored ring boxes.

"Are you ok?" I asked, walking through the clustered place.

"Yeah. It just gets to me. What's your ring size?" He was holding up something I couldn't see.

"Not sure," I answered, dropping the subject. "Did you find something?"

"Yeah. Come here," he turned to me, his hand dropping to his side.

I walked over and he grabbed my left hand, making me feel like I was being proposed to. It was so cute and I couldn't hide the foolish, almost drunken grin.

He placed the ring on my finger and it slid on with ease. It was a tad big, but not big enough that it slipped over my knuckle.

The ring itself was an old diamond ring with a gold band. There was one simple diamond in the middle, even in the dim light it shined and as simple as it was it was beautiful.

"It fits!" I squealed, admiring it by moving my fingers so the light caught it in odd places.

"Yeah," he grinned, slipping his arm around my waist and bending down to kiss my forehead.

"Now we have to get you a ring!" I reminded him, pulling back.

"And another ring for you. That's just the engagement ring," he nodded, turning back to the display. I rolled my eyes.

"Daryl, I'm fine with just this. Honestly."

"But I want it to be special," he argued, picking up another box and opening it, just to close it and sit it back down.

"Alright.." I huffed, walking over to another display case on the other side of the counter. I grabbed all the ring boxes with my left hand, smiling at my simple ring.

"Here's a guys wedding band," I told him, holding up the gold ring. It would probably be too small.

He walked over, trying it on. I was right, it was way too small. He took one look and shook his head, moving on to another display case.

I opened another box, another engagement ring.

We looked through all the knick knacks in the old store, but never found anything. So we were back to the bicycle.

"One more stop, then we'll head home," Daryl told me as we walked out. We both made an effort not to look at the walker family.

"Where to now?" I asked, handing him my gun.

"I guess I whatever we come across next," he shrugged, sitting on the bike and going through his process.

"Daryl, I know I've said it a million times. But, we don't have to kill ourselves looking for rings," I put my hand on his shoulder, having to look down at him.

"I know."

I sighed and got on the back of the motorcycle. It was really sweet that he was doing this, don't get me wrong. But he was stressing over it and it was really a miracle we found a ring that fit my finger. Now he wants to get another one for me? We may die tomorrow, and he's worried about rings.

The vows I can do, I've already been thinking of cute stuff to say. Stupid stuff to say. And the rings would be a great idea. But I didn't like it when he stressed. He was putting this over everything, and we had a lot of fixing up to do at the house. We needed to mend the fence, although just barb wire, it would due. But some places had gotten a little rough and we needed to fix it up, maybe add another row. We also had to see what to do about baths and stuff. We'd just been going down to the creek, but eventually winter would come around. It was barely a month away now. There was important stuff to do. This came second.

We stopped once more at some old jewelry place before hitting another ransacked place. We had found Daryl a pretty nice ring, it was gold and everything. But, he wanted me to have another one, too.

"Daryl," I sighed, once again looking at him sitting on his motorcycle, "this ring is plenty good. It's better than good. We even found you a ring!" As I said it, he turned to put it in the saddle bag that also held my gun. He wasn't going to wear it until after we said the vows.

"But I want everything to be like you've always wanted it to be, Kyra!" he hit the side of his motorcycle gently, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes.

"Listen, this is nothing like I imagined my wedding. I wanted my dad to walk me down the aisle, I wanted it to be out in the clearing where I shot my first deer on my hunting lease, and I wanted to have a white dress and a veil. I wanted the groom and all his side kicks to wear hero shirts under their button downs and the bridesmaids to have dresses that matched the colors of each one. And then the shit hit the fence, and all my dreams went down the drain. You don't know how happy you're making me just by saying vows," I moved so I was sitting on the motorcycle, in front of him, my legs straddled his waist and I put both my hands on the sides of his face, "You really don't know how perfect I think this whole thing is. How perfect you are for wanting to do it for me."

He sighed loudly, putting his arm around my waist, the other one removed one of my hands from his face, my left hand, and lacing his fingers with mine.

"You're sure?" He asked, playing with the ring on my finger.

"Positive," I nodded, smiling at him slightly.

"If you say so," he shrugged, dropping our hands in his lap.

"Do you know what I've always wanted to do?" I asked, my hand that was left on his face slid down to hang off his shoulder.

"What?" he asked, a curious look on his face. Would I ever get used to how ruggedly good looking he was? The whole badass-has-a-heart-of-gold thing was really getting to my hormones.

"Have sex in a car," I grinned, looking around at all the cars we could possibly use.

"Well, damn. Pick a car."

/

Although I absolutely love my new reviewers, I really miss one of my old ones. She brought a smile on my face with her crazy antics.


	43. Chapter 43

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE  
In all the beauty of our new home, Daryl decided we weren't going to get 'married' there. Instead, we drove the short distance down to the creek, where there was a fishing dock he was fond of. He had taken my ring prior to the occasion and put it in his back pocket, saying that I couldn't have it until after the vows had been said.

Instead of using the motorcycle, we used the truck that we'd hot wired just a few days ago. It was a small orange Ford pickup truck that was extremely old and needed a new paint job. But, it worked for now. Worked damn well.

Daryl had put a blue tarp over the back, saying I wasn't allowed to see it until after the 'wedding'. Yet another one of his adorable surprises. I'm sure Michonne came up with it, or helped him in some way, because everything was perfect.

He was wearing one of the only shirts he had with sleeves, a red flannel button down with brown pants and loafer looking shoes. I had French braided part of my hair so it looked slightly better and covered up my scar. I was in a white T-shirt upon the request that we keep it as traditional as possible in these arrangements, and khakis and was barefooted.

Daryl led me on to the dock silently, although we were both pretty excited. We had to travel a little ways from the truck, the path being too small for it to fit. As soon as we got there I realized why he liked it so much. It was gorgeous. It was simple and beautiful, just the way our little wedding was. So, it was perfect. The dock looked out over the creek, which reflected the trees and the clear sky with the sun beginning to make it's beautiful descent.

We stood on the edge for a minute, looking at the water, holding hands. I leaned against him, resting my head on his shoulder and he laid his head on top of mine. I breathed in his scent, something comforting and enjoyable and 100% him. In the reflection of the water we were an odd couple, an eighteen year old and a forty-four year old. But, I knew he was my one. And I didn't this wedding to prove anything, and neither did he.

After a minute of beautiful silence, Daryl lifted his head off mine and turned to face me.

"Better get started or it'll get dark on us," he announced, turning to face me. He looked nervous, and I realized how nervous I was. I had been practicing my made up vows for the past week and kept changing and rewriting them. I tried to calm myself as he took both my hands in his. Was this really happening?

"So, I guess I'll start?" he asked. In all honesty, I wasn't sure if the bride or groom was supposed to start the vows, or how long they were supposed to be. But, we had written our own, or at least I had, so I figured we should be ok.

"Sure," I smiled nervously. My palms were sweating and I hoped he couldn't tell. He totally could though.

Daryl cleared his throat and straightened his back, looking adorable in his flannel shirt and somewhat not messed up hair.

"Kyra LeAnne, I promise to watch your back if you watch mine," he began, a silly smile on his face. It was the cutest. We both felt ridiculous, but in a good way.

"I promise to be there for you everyday, I promise to hold you when you're sad and kiss you when you're happy, and just leave you alone when you're mad; I promise to make love to you every chance I get, because I also promise to never take you for granted."

I blushed a little, wondering if he had planned this or was saying it off the top of his head.

"I promise to love you in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad times, and all that wonderful stuff. I promise to not get aggravated when you get pissed off at me next year when I forget the date of this," we both laughed a little, I was grinning full on now. "And I promise to love you with all my heart until death do us part," he paused and we looked at each other, smiling.

"Your turn," he whispered, winking.

"Oh. Right," I blushed and cleared my throat. "Daryl, I promise to be your tag team murder partner, wether it be a human or a Walker," he shook his head playfully, squeezing my hands lightly, "I promise to care for you when you're sick and nag you when I'm sick. I promise to be your wife and if God's willing, make you a father. I promise to always tell you the truth and be faithful and loyal to you. I promise to never send you to the couch, or at least without good reason," another head shake, "and I promise to love you in sickness and in health, rich or poor, and for better or for worse. Until Walker do us part," I grinned again, feeling pretty clever.

Daryl took the rings out of his pocket, handing me his. He held my hand and slipped my ring onto my finger, kissing it before letting me put his ring on. We couldn't stop laughing. It was so silly and wonderful.

"Can I kiss the bride?" Daryl asked, that foolish grin on his face. Some bride I really was. Although I did feel like one. He had made this so special so easily.

"You may now kiss the bride," I giggled, nodding my head. His hands left my hand and wrapped around my waist, pulling me close. One of my arms went around his neck while the other rested on his shoulder. He leaned in and I closed my eyes, feeling his sweet kiss.

We kissed shortly, just a few seconds, before pulling away.

"I know pronounce us husband and wife," Daryl whispered by my ear, one arm staying at my waist while another grabbed my hand. He pulled me to him, my head rested on his shoulder as we danced in a slow circle, the dock creaking beneath us. He hummed in my ear, both of us stifling laughter. God knows what he was humming, but it sounded like something from Cinderella.

He dipped me, and we both burst into laughter, kissing lightly before he pulled me back up. But, after a second he pulled away and we stopped our terrible dancing, still holding each other.

"Ok, so that was the first dance. Now, we get drunk?" he asked, raising his eye brows in glee.

"Off our asses!" I added, already a bit drunk off of my happiness, and we both laughed. He took my hand and we nearly ran back to the truck, my bare feet dodging random rocks and such.

We walked up to the old truck, leaning on each other. The ring on my hand felt heavy, although it was tiny. Just something I would get used to.

"Ok, close your eyes," he instructed, letting go of my hand and standing by the tarp. I put my hands over my eyes, smiling.

I heard the sound of the tarp being removed on the squeak of the gate on the back of the truck being lowered. I was fidgeting in place, unable to control my excitement. Some more sounds I couldn't make out, and then a thin silence.

"Ok, open!"

I slowly removed my hands from my face and froze, letting out a quick gasp. It was so perfect.


	44. Chapter 44

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR  
In the bed of the truck lay an actual bed with one of the green comforters from the house and fluffy pillows covering it. In the middle lay a basket with three bottles of wine and two glasses, cuddled up in a wool blanket as to not break any of the glass. He grinned, sitting on the gate of the truck, and patted the place next to him.

I walked over, grinning, as he turned to grab the first bottle and the glasses. I sat down and took the glasses from him as he popped the bottle open, sticking his tongue out at the struggle of not having a cork screw.

He took one glass and poured it half way full, then poured my glass.

"Let's make a toast," he said, sticking his glass in the air.

"Let's," I agreed playfully, lifting mine half way. He was just adorable.

"To a long life and beautiful marriage," he toasted, eyeing me.

"I can agree with that," I tapped my glass against his and we both downed our first drink, Daryl was quick to refill both.

"I always wanted to find someone who drank as much as me," he joked, leaning over to kiss my cheek.

We sat there, holding hands and drinking wine as we watched the sunset. I loved him so much. We didn't say it often, but I really did love him. We'd gone through an unexpected pregnancy, and then an even more unexpected miscarriage, having to leave each other, me being raped, Daryl fighting with himself, and some how we always bounced back. Our love was unconditional and pure and every bit of what I imagined my husband to be.

Granted, I also thought I would be in my twenties and that my husband would be just a few years older than me. But, he was so much better than any thing I could have ever dreamed. That goofy little ceremony we called a wedding was the most perfect thing. Anything I could have planned wouldn't have turned out half as good as that. How did he go from a total bad ass to the sweetest, most caring guy?

"So, is this our honeymoon?" I asked, letting Daryl refill my glass yet again, and then top his off.

"Yes'm. And I have to be back tomorrow morning to start mending the fence. So, we better enjoy it," he half smiled, drinking some more.

"Do you know how perfect you are?" I asked, turning on the gate so I was facing him more. The gate squeaked something awful and it was hard to imagine we could actually make love in this noisy thing. But Daryl and I had sex in the back seat of a Honda. We could do anything.

Daryl scoffed at my question, raising an eyebrow and downing another glass. I finished mine off too, and he topped us off again.

"Do you know how perfect you are?" he used my question, tapping the side of his glass with his ring finger, making it make a chinking sound.

"Mm, I don't," I nodded my head 'no'. "I don't want to either," I shrugged, leaning my head against his shoulder. He wrapped one of his arms around my shoulders, squeezing him to me.

"I love you," he told me, his mouth by my ear. I could probably count the number of times he'd said that on my fingers.

"I love you, too," I turned to kiss him on the cheek before continuing my previous position.

We sat there for awhile, the suns final rays streaking across the sky before the dark finally settled around us. Lightening bugs flew around, causing a cute scene.

"So, Mrs. Dixon, what next?" Daryl asked, kissing the top of my head. Mrs. Dixon. I could definitely get used to that.

"Well, Mr. Dixon, it's time for this bed to be filled," I giggled as Daryl opened the next bottle of wine and filled our glasses yet again.

"We do that all the time," Daryl shrugged, taking a gulp of the wine. Drunk or not, he normally didn't refuse sex.

"Yeah, but this time we'll be married," I argued, already sitting my drink down and unbuttoning the first button on his shirt. He chuckled, agreeing with out having to say so. He sat up, hands moving to my waist and my neck as he knocked his glass over, along with the wine, spilling everything out over the side of the truck.

I managed to unbutton his shirt, proudly pulling it back to show Daryl's toned torso. I moved so I was straddling his waist, kissing his neck. He moaned, leaning back on his hands and stretching his neck out. I bit, sucked, and licked his shoulder, moving back up to his neck and nibbling his ear. He shivered, and I ran my hands through his hair, feeling numb with pleasure.

Suddenly, I felt weightless. Daryl picked me up, nearly throwing me against the bed. He tore of my white shirt, seriously ripping part of the collar, leaving me in my bra. He kicked his shoes off before making his descent back to the task at hand. He kissed my collar bone, then the hollow of my throat, his hands on either side of my throat. It felt so dangerous.. His kisses led down to my chest. His breath was coming fast as his hands slid down from my throat to each boob. I drew a quick breath as he started kissing my stomach, surprising me. It tickled, and that mixed with his hands working on my boobs, I squirmed under neath him.

He unhooked my bra, getting better at it, and for a second enjoyed the scene the moon had allowed. Daryl once again bent down, his lips surrounding my nipple.

"Oh.." I gasped, my hands balling up the covers in a tight fist. While his mouth worked on my boob, his hands went down to my pants, unbuckling my belt and throwing it. It didn't make it off the truck, landing with a loud clank.

He lifted his head from my breast to continue with my pants, dragging them off. He didn't hesitate to invite himself to the south. His fingers pulled my cotton underwear down to my knees, not having enough emotional strength to pull them all the way off before his fingers began their descent.

He slid two fingers over my clit and we both moaned, making me tense up. He honestly had way too many clothes on.

"God, you're wet," he whispered in that husky voice of his. I glanced down to see that, yes, he was hard. I flicked his shoulder.

"Don't be vulgar," it came out fast, my breathing already hitched and irregular from the job he did on my breasts.

He didn't say anything, just returned to the job. He slid, first one finger, then two, inside me. I moaned, trying to contain myself as his head bent down to join his fingers. I stifled a scream, thinking I was way too excited for foreplay.

I reached down, grabbing his hand and pulling it away from my crotch. He looked confused, but I just sat up, fumbling with his pants before he helped me take them off. I couldn't take foreplay anymore.

Soon, the truck squeaked and moaned in rhythm with our drunken love making. Being quite a ways from Michonne, and just being flat out wasted, I didn't try to stifle my moans and cries. More than once I let out a, "Fuck!", followed by a, "Oh.." or, "Yes.." My hands dug into his back, ran over his scars.

Daryl would grunt or moan above me, and sometime during the sex, below me. His hands all over me, both of us covered in sweat; both our own and each other's.

I eventually climaxed, and Daryl 'came' slightly later. We laid down on the bed, kicking the covers away from our sweaty bodies.

Daryl reached out, his strong arms wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me to him. We were still breathing hard, pressed against each other.

"So," Daryl began after some time, kissing my neck.

"So," I said back, playing with his fingers. Would I even remember any of this in the morning? Probably not.

"Now that we're married and all, I've been meaning to ask you something."

"What's that?" I asked, pulling one of his fingers to my mouth and kissing it slowly before gently blighting it.

"Well, and it's ok if you don't want to, but a blow job would be nice," he sounded nervous. I laughed, setting his hand back down.

"Maybe," I whispered, reaching for the covers and pulling them over me. "Night, Daryl."

He sighed loudly before kissing the top of my head. "Night."

/

Guys, I'm so sorry that it took me a little bit to update. But, my grandfathers been in the hospital and I've been with him for a bit. Sorry again. Review!


	45. Chapter 45

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE  
Nothing really changed for the next few weeks, the 'marriage' life was like it was before. We kissed, we joked, we made love, we were best friends. Now, we were also husband and wife. And that was a pretty great to be able to say.

The chores at the house kept piling on. The fence still needed mending, but that required a surplus of fence that we didn't have. So, that meant we'd have to make a raid here soon, or start having watch shifts. And none of us wanted the second option. With just three of us, that would be very very annoying and not a lot of time to be a group and family.

Another thing, we were discussing heading out once or twice a week to try and find more people. We hadn't stumbled upon anyone since Jack and Miriam, but we knew more people were out there. It was just finding them that was the problem. I was nervous about that, because I didn't want to trust anyone. It would be hard. Daryl and Michonne would go through the motions of making sure they were trust worthy, but how can you ever really tell? People can be very good liars.

The water was another giant problem. Well, to me it was bigger than giant. It was my biggest concern. The creek was good for now, but fall was just less than a month away and we weren't sure how the creek was going to react. It hadn't rained in a few days to add more stress to the water supply, and I was getting really nervous. We only had three barrels, so storing up on water wouldn't work and it would be another raid to get more barrels and canteens.

Then, there was food. We wanted to start a garden, but it was way way too late in the season for that. We would waste our time if we even tried. And nobody wanted to have to go through those mountain roads when they got icy. So, we also needed to stock up on canned stuff and anything that didn't go bad. Which was another raid and another problem to deal with.

Clothing was a pretty big issue. All of ours were getting worn out from continuous use and constantly sweating in them. With no washer, we had to hand wash them and I'm pretty sure I suck at it, so that wasn't helping them. I only had two pairs of jeans left that didn't have holes from rubbing on my thighs all day (a thigh gap would help right about now. Curse you curves!) and Michonne had reappeared in the same pair for a few days now. So, I guessed she was having a similar problem. Daryl basically wore the same thing over and over again, so he wasn't affected by the clothing drought at all.

We decided to stock up on medical supplies the next time we go out. You never know when something will happen and you need simple stuff like pain medicine or a band aid. Plus, Daryl had gotten poison ivy once already, and was bound to get it another time. Not having any itch cream or Benadryl made him go crazy. And that made us all go crazy.

We also need more ammo. But, every place had been cleared out. I was down to two bullets and Daryl kept breaking or losing his arrows. He only had a handful left. Michonne had her sword, but if a herd came, the sword would only do so good for so long. We needed multiple guns and much much more ammo.

We needed a lot of stuff, a lot of supplies that we didn't really have, or know how to get. Homes, stores, parks. Where? How? It was enough to put a snappy tension in the air. We were all so stressed out about the near future that none of us were really comfortable. And that caused problems.

The sex was average. It had become a routine, every few nights we'd get an itch and fool around half heartedly before rolling off each other. We'd hold on to one another for a few moments before Daryl began his snoring. It wasn't fantastic. It wasn't even really good. It was just average.

There was so much to be done and any time one of us would try to discuss it, it would end up in an argument. Michonne wanted to get medical supplies, Daryl wanted to fix the fence, I wanted to look for another water system. We'd argue for thirty minutes before saying we had better things to do and leave the living room. I would stomp  
off to start cleaning, Michonne would silently load the car up to get the medical supplies, but never go, and Daryl would take off for a two hour walk around the fence, trying to get a good idea of how to fix it.

Nobody would be 'done' until hours later, still not talking to each other, not out of anger, but out of fear that we would fight again. We three loved each other, that was very clear. But, we wanted different things right now and it caused useless fighting.

After Daryl's pout walk, it would normally be dark and I would be in our room, folding clothes or reading under a flashlight. He would walk in and we wouldn't look at each other. He'd sit on the bed for a minute before standing back up and walking over to me, putting his arms around me from behind. I would always turn around and hold him, lay my head on his chest, and more than once I had cried. He would tell me everything would work out and everything will be ok. But I would cry regardless, nearly shaking against him.

All of us felt powerless. With no one being able to agree on what to do, none of us would take any action and we'd be back to square one. It was pathetic and stupid and very stubborn.

Today was no different. We had all fought, Daryl had taken his walk, Michonne had packed her car, then unpacked it, and I scrubbed the floors in every room downstairs. I hated it, but I cleaned when I was pissed off. Then, we went to bed, I had cried tonight, Daryl and I made love, and now we were laying beside each other in bed.

He was sleeping noisily beside me, sex acting like a sleep aid for him. I stared at the wall beside my bed, his arms wrapped tightly around me and the covers thrown in the floor, the thin white sheet being our only blanket source. It was extremely hot.

I pushed Daryl off me gently, standing out of the bed. I grabbed my T-shirt and shorts from the floor and quickly put them on. I walked over to one of the large windows in our room and opened it, grabbing the black flash light beside it and climbing onto the roof. I sat down on the shingles and clicked the flash light on, sweeping it over the ground below me.

I had become paranoid lately. The story of Hershel's farm being over run playing over and over again in my mind. This was the third night I had sat on the roof and looked for walkers. I couldn't help myself.

I had never found any. Not yet. Not even a stray one. It was so ridiculous and I was losing precious sleep over it. But, this was like my drug. If I didn't too I would probably start convulsing or something.

After an hour of sitting in the stale night air, I ran my flash light one more time over the yard and crawled back inside. I turned the flashlight off and set it back down in the floor. Silently, I closed the window and crawled back into bed beside Daryl. I pulled the sheet up over my clothes and closed my eyes, hoping to get some sleep before the sun came back up and we repeated the day before.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Daryl asked beside me, making me jump.

"Jesus!" I whispered hoarsely, "You scared the shit out of me!"

Daryl pulled me close again, wrapping his arms back around me. He was so comforting and I leaned back against him, feeling his body against mine. I relaxed, feeling myself get sleepier just by his simple action and getting to breathe him in.

"Why do you keep doing that?" he repeated, his mouth was by my ear, and he gently kissed the spot behind it.

"Do what?" I asked, trying to sound innocent as I closed my eyes. I don't think pretending to be asleep would work here?

Why should I be embarrassed of going out there anyway? I can't help I've been paranoid lately. It was a side-effect of all of us arguing, as was the no sleeping.

"Go outside. You keep going through the window and just hanging out up there. Why?" he sounded like he was getting sleepy, too. Probably had been the whole time, he just scared me so bad I hadn't noticed.

"Oh. That. I'm just checking for walkers. I've been a little paranoid lately," I explained easily, feeling the ten pound weight that had been sleeping on my chest get shooed off.

"Don't be. You're safe," he sounded confident. But I didn't feel like I was safe. Maybe after we got the fence fixed I would. I was used to having a barrier surrounding my home. In the four places I've lived since the world went to crap, three had had something around it to protect the people inside. This place had a barbed wire fence with patches. That wasn't comforting.

I didn't say anymore and it wasn't long before Daryl's snoring started back up, lulling me to sleep.

In the morning, I would ask Michonne if she would compromise so we could get the fence secured. Then her medical supplies, then the water system. No more fighting.

And for tonight, I just prayed that she would agree, angered or not. I needed the puzzle pieces to start connecting together like they should and stop acting like they all came from different boxes.

At least Daryl and I weren't fighting. I could live with a thousand fights between the group as long as Daryl and me were ok. Because we'd done enough of that arguing shit.

So, all in all, the marriage was good, the house was getting fixed, and life was as complicated as always.


	46. Chapter 46

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX  
Daryl's POV  
She did it again. She keeps doing it. Every night when I'm holding her, she pushes me away and gets dressed, covering her self. I would watch her walk to the window, even though she thought I was asleep, and climb out. From there, I didn't know what she did. But, she kept doing it.

I was worried about her. Seriously worried about her. She was so paranoid, and not just of the walkers, but of everything. She was scared of her own shadow. It bothered me and I needed to know why she didn't feel safe. I promised her that I would protect her, why couldn't she trust me?

Maybe it wasn't about trust. Maybe she just needed to do that. It was like her medicine. I know she didn't sleep until after she got back from the roof.

I shrugged and turned to fluff my pillow. It was too hot for words lately and, like every other night, most of the giant comforter was pushed off in the floor or the end of the bed, leaving us a thin white sheet.

I went from sleep to dreaming to being awake several times while I waited for Kyra to come back, wishing I could just go back to sleep for good so I wouldn't feel the need to talk to her. Besides the one time I asked her to quit going, we hadn't talked about her odd roof habit.

Most couples have that odd quirk where it's cute or funny and you just don't pay attention to it. I didn't know why I could just let it go and pass it off as a weird habit and let it go. It bothered me that she didn't feel safe. Really really bad. I feel like I always made her feel safe and then Jack happened, and I don't think she trusts me anymore.

But, then again, I could be completely off. She didn't even talk about Jack anymore, didn't let on that she'd ever been hurt. Although, when Michonne mentioned trying to find people she did look rather scared.

So, maybe she would just worry about new comers. Flinch whenever they walked in the room, dress from head to toe, make as less physical contact as possible. There would always be a sign that she was harmed. People can't just walk away from that.

I remembered the night I had begged her to take a pregnancy test. Just two days prior to moving in to this new house. We had argued about it.

"Why can't you just take the god damned test!?" I yelled, the pink box sitting on the sink of our bathroom.

"Because, Daryl! What if I am pregnant, and we know that it's not yours? Then what do we do? Because I'm sure as hell not keeping his damned baby!" she had screamed back, throwing her hands in the air and looking like she may burst in to tears.

"If you are, not taking that test won't prevent it!" I threw back, wishing she would just take the damned thing already.

"Then why take it?" she begged, nearly whispering. Her chin quivered and I swear she does it on purpose. My anger dissolved and I instantly felt bad.

"Kyra, please. I need to know!" I tried to reason with her. We'd already had sex, but it was two nights ago. And I wasn't a genius, but I'm pretty sure you couldn't tell that fast.

"But, he didn't even.. You know..." she threw her hands in the air in frustration and embarrassment. "He didn't ejaculate inside of me!" She shivered at the word, her face flushed red.

"It doesn't matter, Kyra. He could have had precum-"

"Don't be so vulgar!" she hissed, squeezing her eyes shut like a little kid.

"I'm just saying he doesn't have to 'do it' all at once! You could still be pregnant! Now, take the test!" I begged, my hands in my hair.

She looked broken again, like a little kid. My hands fell from my hair and I sighed loudly, wondering how she had such a power over me.

"Kyra-"

"But.. What will I do?" her voice broke, and I had reached for her, holding her to me. She had just taken her bath and her hair was still wet and smelled like the fruity shampoo I had picked up. I closed my eyes for a second, letting her cry against my chest.

"It's ok, Kyra. We'll figure something out."

She seemed to have believed me then. Why couldn't she believe me now? I don't really feel like the circumstances had changed. If it had, I wish that she would just tell me.

Of course, she hadn't been pregnant and we had celebrated by going to bed early and left me feeling like a piece of shit. But, shit happens.

She climbed back through the window, closing the it behind her.

I smiled, she really thought she was being sneaky. But, in reality she was as graceful as the little ass kicker, Judith.

Kyra laid down beside me, moving to hug my torso. I thought about saying something, asking her why she kept going out there. But, she buried her head in between my arm and my side and I lost all my will power.

I was a sucker for Kyra, that was true. I would go to any lengths to protect her or comfort her. And if this window escapade comforted her, then I would let her do it with out harassing her with questions. For now.

/

I decided to do a short little Daryl POV for the sake of I like trying to figure of how he would think. He's not a very expressive man, so I'm sure his head is going full throttle all the time. But, who knows..

Review!


	47. Chapter 47

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN  
I hated waking up and realizing I had more time to sleep. It threw my entire schedule off and I was usually left wondering if I should attempt more sleep or just get up and get an early start on my extremely long and dull day.

I looked up to see Daryl fast asleep and instantly wished I hadn't. He was so peaceful and the old itch to sketch him returned, having been long gone since Carol used them against us.

I crawled away from him and got dressed, deciding I would try to get some sort of jump on my day. I still hadn't talked to Michonne about fixing the fence or anything and she would be up soon.

After I had a yellow T-shirt on, gray shorts, and my moccasins, I crept out of the room, silently closing the door behind me.

I walked down the hall, passing Michonne's room, and down the stairs. We had moved a book shelf in the loft/lobby room, since it was so empty and open and I picked a random book and sat down on my favorite chair, the one left of the couch.

I curled up and opened the book, turning out to be a biography of the life of Martin Luther King Jr. It was pretty interesting, so I continued to read it.

I was on the fourth chapter when Michonne walked in, already dressed and alive looking. She nodded, a book in her hand also. We were both always reading. She chose the couch and we sat in silence, focused on our books.

"You're up early," she said after some time, looking up from her book.

"Yeah," I sat my book down in my lap and looked up at her, "I was hoping I could talk to you before Daryl woke up."

"Why?" she too sat her book down and looked at me with that daring look on her face. She intimated me. That was for sure.

"Well.. I wanted to talk to you about the fence.." with each word my voice grew quieter and my gaze dropped to my lap.

"What?" Michonne asked, her voice seeming to explode.

"I was.." I cleared my throat, "I was wanting to talk to you about the fence and our priorities."

"What about our priorities?"

She was making this much more difficult. But, we had kind of been cold to each other the past few days, so I didn't really blame her.

"Well, I've just been feeling a little off lately. Like, I haven't been getting a lot of sleep and I don't know. I've been kind of scared, you know?" My words piled out of my mouth and I was yelling at myself for them to stop and slow down, but my mouth wouldn't listen to my brain, "And I keep thinking about Hershel's farm and how it was over run and how that it could just randomly happen. I've been climbing on the-"

"I know," she interrupted, crossing her arms. Part of her anger looked like it was dissolving. Maybe.

"Huh?" I asked, taking a deep breath.

"You've been on the roof every night. I can see your flash light beam out of my window."

"Oh," I blinked, "well, uh, sorry if I woke you up-"

"You didn't."

Damn. She wasn't going to let me get a full sentence in, was she?

"Oh," I repeated, feeling stupid. "Well, anyway. I just think that having a better fence would kind of calm my nerves," I grimaced at the face she was giving me. It said 'Are you playing me?' "And Daryl doesn't even know that I'm asking you this or that I'm even scared of not having a fence, so don't think that." I added on quickly.

She nodded her head slowly.

"So, I wouldn't get the medical supplies until after the fence?" she asked, her head titled slightly.

"Well, no. But, we can make that the second best priority. I- I don't know.." I suddenly felt very stupid for asking.

"Tell me this, Kyra. What happens when we're building that fence, and somebody gets cut. Pretty bad. And we don't have the medical supplies to clean it out or put a band aid on it. Nothing. What then?"

I stared at her for a second, she stared back. Well, she was right. If one of us got hurt, we wouldn't have the supplies to fix them up.

My stomach twisted in knots and I realized how clammy my hands were. Right about now, I'd probably agree with anyone to get this family feud to end.

"Michonne," I started, pushing part of my hair back. Even with it extremely short it still got in the way, "I just want this argument between all of us to end. I also want to be able to go to sleep at night without the need to check for walkers a thousand times. I've been so paranoid lately. I get that you and Daryl are used to being on the run and not having a lot of protection, but I'm not. I'm really not. It scares me. At Woodbury we had a barricade around the entire town, at the prison there was the fence, and at the cabin Daryl had set up a fence. Here we have patchy barbed wire. I wish that I wasn't so freaked out, but I am. And I'm not even sure if a fence would really help that, but I'm willing to take a leap of faith. Can we not work something out?" It all spilled out of my mouth, my words seemed to fight over each other to get out and I silently prayed that she would agree to something.

She sighed loudly and shook her head.

"Whatever. But when your hubby up there gets cut and we don't have anything to fix him, don't come running to me," she put her hands in the air in mock surrender and smiled. Good, we were already slightly joking. She used the word 'hubby'. She had to be joking.

"Thank you so so much," I jumped up and threw my arms around her before I even realized I was doing so. I thought she might throw me off, but she hugged me back, gently squeezing me before letting go.

"What's going on here?" Daryl asked from the door way, no shirt and hair a mess. I glanced at Michonne before walking over to him and standing on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek and fix his hair.

"Nothing."


	48. Chapter 48

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT  
Michonne loaded the car as I 'helped' Daryl load up the truck. The three of us were getting ready for an all day event. We would hit every hardware store and every farm until dark. And then we'd go back home and tomorrow we would start fixing the fence. Finally, we would start getting something done around here.

"You ready?" Daryl asked from the back of the truck, where he was fitting a canvas bag full of hammers, wrenches, and anything that could be used to bash in the brain of a walker in between two spare tires.

"Sure am," I answered from the front seat, fiddling with the old radio. It had cassette tapes! How cute. I'm so helpful.

He jumped down from the bed of the truck and walked over to the car, throwing his hand up at Michonne, signaling our being ready.

He slumped in the seat, turned the truck on, and looked over at me. Imagine the sexiest look you've ever seen on a man. And I mean dig deep. The look that makes you shiver and instantly makes you want to get laid. Times that by ten and that's the look Daryl gave me.

"Why're you sittin' so far away?" he asked, his arm rested on the back of the long seat. I shrugged sheepishly and awkwardly moved to the middle seat, barely a seat at all. His arm moved from the seat to my shoulders and I leaned against him. The weight of his arm was kind of awkward and uncomfortable, but at the same time it was comforting. Which didn't entirely make sense.

Michonne's car started down the long drive way and Daryl shifted the truck into gear, following behind her.

We started our drive, passing the iron gate that Daryl had nearly broken to get the cars through, and onto the mountain road.

He leaned back in the seat, one hand on the wheel, the other held mine. I loved car rides with him. They were almost as fun as motorcycle rides. But, as motorcycle rides were about how excited I could get him, truck rides were how flirty we could be.

I leaned against him, watching Michonne's car disappear down the curvy roads, only to reappear a few seconds later. The truck was loud, probably more trouble than it was worth, and made godawful put put noises as we drove. But, it was almost peaceful and since the feud between our decision making was basically over, everything seemed to be enjoyable. Even the walker we had to dodge.

"If we had a kid in the next nine months, what would you want it to be?" I asked a moment later, sitting up. His hand slid from my hand to my thigh, where it rested flirtatiously. He was a completely different person when it was just me and him. His insanely macho pride basically crumbled when there was no threat and we could really just be us.

"Well, that was quick. Was the sex even good?" he joked, giving me a glance before his eyes went back to the road.

"The sex was great," I grinned, playfully hitting him in the side. "Now answer my question!"

"But was the sex like amazing?" he asked, squeezing my knee.

"Daryl! The sex was awesome! You made me scream aaaaall night! Now, answer the question! What would you want it to be?" I playfully pinched his arm and he swatted back.

"Mine," he retorted, and we both laughed. "And great answer."

"Ok, it is yours. It's fifty percent Daryl and fifty percent Kyra. Now what gender do you want it to be?"

He thought for a minute, his knuckles grazing my thigh, moving up and down repeatedly. His eyes were on the road, and for a minute I thought that maybe he was just going to simply ignore my question.

"I don't know. I'd be pretty content with either one. A guy I could teach how to shoot and hunt and play baseball. With a girl, well you're the perfect example that I could do all those things with her, too," he squeezed my thigh playfully and I smiled.

"So you wouldn't care?"

"Nope. Unless the girl didn't like to hunt or fish or play baseball. Then, I would have to find something else to teach her and that would suck," he nodded, and after a second I realized he was still joking. "What do you want?" he asked, glancing at me again.

"I really want a boy. I don't know why, but I've always wanted to have a little boy and then a little girl. It's always how I've planned things out. The names? That's a different story. But, I would want a boy," I answered, leaning up to fiddle with the radio again, slipping in an old, black cassette thing with no writing. I assumed it was a mix tape and soon Johnny Cash's low voice was singing to us through the crackly speakers.

"A boy?" he repeated, shrugging. "I thought every girls dream was to have a little girl that they lived through?" he once again tried to joke.

"You're funny," I elbowed him and he smirked down at me.

"And you're cute. But, we're both liars," he shrugged and winked at me. My mouth flew open in mock shock and I punched him lightly on the leg.

"Did you just call me ugly?" I scoffed, my eyes wide.

"Of course not. I would never marry someone that's ugly," his hand reached up to grab my side and I squirmed, being extremely ticklish.

"Stop!" I gasped, fighting his hand. He glanced from the road, to me, and back, laughing at my awful horse laugh.

"Say the magic word!"

"Daryl.." I warned, now nearly in the floor board.

"Say it!"

"Daryl, I don't know the damn magic word!" I squealed, both of my hands wrapped around his wrist, but his hand wasn't letting go. I was red faced, gasping for breath in the middle of laughing. Oh, and spazzing out. I did a lot of that.

"Come on. Guess."

"I swear to God.." I warned again, kicking at him and failing miserably. I had turned so crazily during my thrashing around that my legs were now in his lap.

His hand pulled away and he chuckled.

"How'd you know that was the magic word?" he asked, watching me pull myself together and gasp for more air. I rolled my eyes, sitting back beside him and wrapping my arms around my side.

"I hate you," I said playfully, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

"Right as I thought you may actually like me," he shook his head in fake sadness, sniffing.

I smiled, my heart seemed to explode. He was the ultimate perfect husband. I just wished that I could return all of his love and his amazingness. But, no matter how hard I tried, it was like he cared just a little more, he loved just a little more, he thought a head just a little more. It was almost overwhelming, but in a good, reassuring sense.

We sat there, my arms wrapped around his one arm, my head on his shoulder, as his hand rested on my leg while the other one drove.

"I seen you went out again last night," he said after awhile, the road leading out onto an abandoned highway that would eventually lead to a vast variety of stores.

"Yeah.." I mumbled, not really wanting to talk about my nightly watches.

"Why?"

"Why what?" I asked back, kissing his shoulder.

"Why do you keep going out there? I asked you to quit," his hand moved from my thigh to around my waist.

"It's not that easy, Daryl," I sighed, my forehead pressed against his shoulder. "I can't just stop. If I don't do it, I sit there and think 'They could be out there right now. In a second we could be over run and if I would have just went out there, I could have seen them and we could have gotten out. But now, we'll barely make it out alive. If at all,' So, I go out there. Why is it such a big deal?"

"Because, I'm supposed to make you feel safe. And you don't feel safe!"

"Can we not argue about it? Please?" I basically begged, one of my hands moved from his arm to his torso, hugging him.

"We're not arguing. We're talking," he said simply.

"Can we talk about it later?"

He sighed loudly, but didn't say anything else. I waited for a second, but he didn't speak or argue.

"Thank you," I kissed his neck and he grunted slightly.

"I spoil you," he joked, his hand playing with my hair.

He did spoil me, a lot. I didn't deserve it.

"I know. Thanks."


	49. Chapter 49

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE  
I once again found myself staring at my wall, Daryl's arm thrown around me lazily, his cheek pressed against my bare shoulder blade. I begged myself to just go to sleep, to fight the urge to throw Daryl off me, get dressed, and look for walkers. Why couldn't I just trust that I was safe here?

But, I couldn't. I gently shrugged from Daryl's arm and crept out of bed. I picked my shorts off of the floor and pulled them on, along with an oversized shirt.

I glanced at Daryl in the dark, his arm stretched out over the bed where my body would normally lay. Guilt seemed to take over, and I suddenly thought of how easy it would be to climb back in bed beside him and pretend I had never gotten up in the first place.

Of course I didn't. I snuck over to the window, cringing when it nearly fell closed again and made a loud clanking noise. I opened it again, bent over and grabbed the flash light, and heard the bed creak. I stopped in place, hoping that maybe he'd just shifted.

"Kyra," nope. He was awake.

"Yeah?" I whispered, turning to look at him. He had sat up in bed, the sheet pushed away from his chest, bunching up at his waist.

"Don't go."

My heart felt like someone was squeezing it and my gut was twisted into knots.

We looked at each other in the dark for a minute, my throat restricted. Why couldn't he just pretend he was asleep? Why not just ignore me and let me go and do my watch?

"Daryl, I have to," it killed me, but not going out there would do more damage.

I grabbed the flashlight and climbed out of the window, wiping back a stupid stray tear.

I sat on the shingles, fumbling with the flashlight before I could finally turn it on. I swept it over the ground, and then again, and again.

I heard a noise by the window and watched as Daryl climbed through, baggy pajama pants on and bare chested, something in his left hand, before he walked over and plopped down beside me.

"Hey," he whispered, opening his fist and taking out a single cigarette and a lighter. He lit it and held it to his mouth.

"Hey," I looked at our feet on the shingles and then back up at him. He held the cigarette out and I took it, taking a quick drag before handing it back.

We sat in silence and passed the cigarette back and forth as I continued sweeping the flash light back and forth over the ground.

"Have you ever seen one?" Daryl finally asked, blowing smoke out of his nose.

"Nada," I answered, taking it from him. We normally didn't smoke together. I normally didn't smoke. But, sometimes you do stuff to calm down a bit.

"Then why do you keep doing it?" he asked, running a hand through his hair.

"It's not like I can just stop, Daryl." I huffed, watching him take a drag of his cigarette and offer it to me.

"Why not?"

I took the cigarette once again, staring at it

"Asking me to stop doing this is like asking you to quit smoking," I shrugged, taking a quick puff.

"Fine," he sounded almost angry, taking the cigarette and throwing it off the roof. "I'll quit. I won't touch another god damned cigarette if you quit coming out here."

I sighed loudly, squeezing my eyes shut.

"Ok, do you want me to throw my paranoia off the side of the roof, too, Daryl?" I asked, my hands balling into fist as my sides.

"Don't be a bitch," he moaned, and a burst of anger swarmed through me.

"You're an ass," I whispered hoarsely, finely opening my eyes back open and standing.

"Kyra, I'm not being an ass. I'm trying to understand why you don't feel safe! Why don't you believe me when I say that I will protect you?"

We weren't whispering anymore. Poor Michonne. We always fought when she was trying to sleep.

"What is with you and trying to be the macho hero?" I yelled, "You don't have to protect every one all the damned time!"

"I'm not trying to protect everyone! I'm trying to make you comfortable in your own home!"

"We're not talking about this on a roof, Daryl. I'll be too tempted to throw you off the side." I told him through clenched teeth. I grabbed my flashlight and walked over to the window, climbing through it into the room. For a second I debated on slamming it shut and locking it. But, instead I walked away from it.

He followed through the window a second later, looking tired and aggravated. Why was he so stubborn? Why was I so stubborn?

"Kyra, I just don't understand why you don't feel safe," he spread his palms out.

"Daryl, I know that you would go to the end of the world to protect me. I understand that. But even you couldn't keep us all safe if a giant herd attacked in the middle of the night! I can't help that I'm paranoid!" I sat down on the bed, feeling so so frustrated.

"If a herd did come, what are you gonna do with that pathetic flashlight?" he asked, gesturing towards it.

"I couldn't do anything with it, except for see the damned thing! Then, I could wake you and Michonne up and we could manage to get a few things and get the hell out of here before they attacked!"

"I just don't get it," he sounded as frustrated as I felt.

"After we fix the fence, I promise I'll quit going out there if it'll make you feel better," I gave in, but making sure to throw in the part about the fence. I wouldn't feel safe until we had one.

"It would make me feel better than better," he sighed in relief, sitting down beside me.

"But you have to quit smoking," I eyed him, smiling slightly. He nearly growled, falling back on the bed.

"Fine."

I giggled like a little girl, crawling on top of him and straddling his chest.

"You're good to me," I planted both hands on his shoulders, leaning down like I was doing a push up.

"I'm too good to you," he responded, both of his hands on the back of my thighs, running up and down. "So, do I get a prize?"

I grinned, bending down and kissing him softly. I pulled away, just enough to speak.

"It depends on what you want," I whispered, our noses pressed against each other, my head bent down slightly.

"I think we talked about this on our wedding night?" he suggested, and I almost groaned.

There was absolutely nothing romantic about a blow job. I mean nothing.

I sat up, looking down at him.

"Seriously?" I groaned, making a face.

"Yes seriously! I just quit smoking!" he grinned foolishly.

"So, shouldn't you be the one keeping your mouth busy?" I asked sarcastically.

"You may actually like it," he shrugged, that stupid grin seemed to be cemented on his face. I crinkled my nose.

"But that's.. Ugh. If you really want it..." I crossed my arms, praying he would say he didn't.

"What's the big deal? Wives give their husbands blow jobs all the time," he debated with me. I shivered at the word.

"It's so.. Unattractive," I argued back, rolling off the side of him.

"For you or for me?" he asked, laying on his side and looking down at me as I sprawled out on the bed, my legs hanging off the side.

"For me! I'd have your.. Thing!.. stuffed in my mouth! Let me tell you, that is not an attractive sight," I gave him a look, my eyes looking up at him.

"But, it would feel amazing. And you wouldn't look unattractive. It'd be hot," he argued back, his hand pulled back my bangs, an attempt to be romantic? Wasn't working.

"I'm pretty sure you would lose every ounce of respect for me."

"I would not," he groaned.

"How could you respect someone after that? Like, it's the nastiest form of sex," I put on a macho man voice, "'Here! Let me shove my dick down your throat!' How is that possibly good?"

"And 'Here let me shove my dick in your puss!' is so much better?" he asked, one eye brow raised and a 'hell yeah' look on his adorable face.

"Good point," I shrugged, sitting up.

"Does that mean I get one?" he asked, smirking.

"But.. Would you really want to kiss me after that? I mean, come on. You'd basically be kissing your own.. thing."

Damn. I was sexually awkward. Not during, but after or before. After and/or before sex I was the most awkward person ever. I couldn't even say basic words.

"I've had my mouth all over your girly parts and you still kiss me," he raised his eyes brows and looked at me through slanted eyes.

"But, that's different," I argued playfully.

"How so?" he asked, both of his hands were on either side of me, so he was now looking down at me.

"It just is!"

"Can I ask you something and you promise not to get mad?" he asked, nearly on top of me now. I looked at him skeptically for a second.

"Mmm.. Sure," I answered, raising an eyebrow.

"Is the reason you're so uncomfortable with doing this, because Jack.. made you give him one?" he asked, almost gently.

"No! I would have cut his dick off!" I yelled, then lowered my voice. "No. He didn't make me give him oral sex. That's not why I'm so uncomfortable with it," I told him, smiling slightly.

"I was just making sure. Because, now I can push this and not feel bad," he shrugged above me, and I reached up, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him down.

"Kyra.." he growled, and I almost lost every ounce of will power. I mean, god damn it he sexy!

I connected our mouths, and we kissed for a moment, his tongue finding it's way into my mouth. I moaned lightly, thinking that kissing was almost as good as the actual sex. Almost.

He pulled away slightly, and in that husky, absolutely sexy voice, he whispered:

"You'd be the best."

"Mmm..." I cringed, "ugh. I guess."

"Yes!"


	50. Chapter 50

CHAPTER FIFTY  
I stood over a bundle of wire, thick gloves on my hands despite the heat. Daryl said I would cut myself, because in all honestly I probably would. Michonne was working beside me, gloves on her hands, too. Daryl had gone out on his motorcycle to once again figure out which places needed the wire the most, and would mark them with a red 'x'. We had given him a can of spray paint and asked him to mark places until it was empty.

I loaded the wire from Michonne's car to the back of the little truck, filling it as full as possible before we headed out. Because of the heat, I had stayed in shorts and a T-shirt. That was admittedly a bad idea, because I had scratches all over my arms already, and would probably have them on my legs before long.

We took the last heavy bundle of used barbed wire from the back of her car and drug it over to the truck, slamming the gate shut after.

"Can you grab that bag?" Michonne asked me, pointing to the black canvas bag by my feet. I wordlessly picked it up, throwing it to her. She caught it and began putting different stuff in it: pliars, a hammer, a box of nails, etcetera.

"You're already cut up, Kyra," she opened the truck door and threw the bag in, shutting it again. She shook her head, a small smile on her face. "Let's hope that you don't need any med help."

I laughed slightly, looking at my lower arms. It looked like I was a sloppy self harmer, and my shirt had little splotches of blood on them from me wiping it off on the poor yellow thing.

"I know, I'm pitiful," I laughed, taking the gloves off and wiping the sweat on my shorts.

"This should have been a ten minute trip, thirty minutes at most. He's been an hour," Michonne complained, leaning against the truck hood.

"I know. He may have found something," I suggested. But, what was he supposed to find..? I was making up some seriously sad excuses for him being slow.

"If he's not back in ten minutes, we're going out there," she told me, raising her eyebrows and wiping sweat off her forehead.

I agreed. Either he was hurt, something had gone oddly wrong, or he was pitifully slow. And I needed for it to be the last option, because I was sick of things not going right.

Not too long after, the sound of his motorcycle arose, and then Daryl himself. He turned his baby off and stood up, making sure the kickstand was positioned just right before getting off.

I breathed a sigh of relief as he walked over, seeming to be fine and not hurt.

"What took you so long?" I asked, sitting Indian style on the hood of the truck, Michonne was leaning against it beside me.

"I found something!" he said excitedly, a small smile on his face, he leaned up and gave me a peck, before walking over to the truck, looking in the back to make sure everything was in place.

"What'd you find?" Michonne asked, turning to watch him.

"It's a surprise!" he opened the truck door. "You coming?" he asked, one arm on top of the truck roof, the other on the door.

Michonne and I shared a look of annoyance mixed with amusement as we nodded. I went to the passenger side and Michonne jumped in the bed of the truck. We opened the back window, a small rectangle, and set out.

"So, what's the surprise?" I asked, craning my head to look at Michonne, who was sitting on the canvas bag and avoiding the barbed wire.

"You'll see," he smirked, driving out into the back yard.

"You didn't knock down half the fence or anything, did you? Because that would be the suckiest surprise ever," I joked as we came up to the first 'x'. He stopped the car and gave me a look before getting out. I smiled after him, then got out myself, putting my gloves back on.

We mended the fence. As we worked, we decided the next step was to add two more layers, one on top, the other on the bottom. It only took about ten minutes, but we traded the broken barbed wire, for less broken barbed wire, and then we were back in the truck.

"So, how long until the surprise?" I asked, smiling over at him. How could there be a surprise out here? With just fence? Slightly less messed up fence?

"It's about a mile and a half out here," he answered, coming up to our next 'x'. "So, not long."

We once again fixed the fence, this time I cut my wrist.

"Fuck," I whispered, staring at the small cut that was bleeding an awful lot for such a small cut.

"Let me see," Daryl sighed, holding his hand out.

"No, it's fine." I argued, wiping the blood on my shorts.

"Kyra," he warned.

"Daryl," I responded, holding my wrist with my other glove. It wasn't really that bad.

"Is it deep?" Michonne asked, setting down the bundle of wire.

"No. It's fine. It's just bleeding. Look at my arms, I have plenty of scratches," I dismissed them, feeling extremely embarrassed. Why was it always me?

"Daryl, give her your bandana," she basically ordered, her hands on her hips.

"No, seriously! It's fine!" I nearly screamed, getting tired of this. He didn't need to get that stupid bandana bloody.

He pulled it out of his back pocket despite my words, and grabbed my wrist.

"You guys are over reacting," I sighed, letting Daryl tie it around the cut.

"Just taking precautions," Michonne said, turning back to her bundle and getting a long piece unwound, before clipping it with the pliers.

I looked at the bandana, Daryl helping Michonne at the fence. It was stupid. This prize Daryl had better be damned good. Because this day sucked.

We got back in the car after a minute, I crossed my arms and leaned against the window.

"It's not that bad," Daryl attempted to comfort me, leaning over and patting my near before looking back at the steering wheel.

"I know it's not. But you and Michonne sure made it seem so," I sighed, looking at him out of the corner of my eye.

"We're just being careful," he shrugged.

"You wouldn't have been so careful if it was you or Michonne. You guys treat me different. I'm tired of being the weak one," I moved so my back was to the door and my feet were on the seat, knees pulled up to my chest.

"No, we wouldn't have. You're not the weak one. You're just.. the special one."

"That was lame," I scoffed, smiling at him and rolling my eyes.

"Maybe, but you're not weak. You've been through too much to be considered weak."

"Whatever," I sighed once again.

"Hey, here's the surprise! Close your eyes!" Daryl's eyes went wide with excitement and he stopped the truck. I did as I was told, wondering what it could be.

He got out of the car, making Michonne close her eyes, too. I waited in the truck until I heard him yell for us, and I stepped out, instantly laughing.

"Where'd you find a dog?" I nearly yelled, cracking up. Michonne was laughing too.

Daryl was squatted by a dog, about knee high and black and brown. It was a mutt, no distinct features to tell it apart. It was cute and had a brown collar around it's neck.

"It crawled under the fence and tried to chase my motorcycle!" he answered, petting the thing.

"What are you gonna name it?" Michonne asked, walking over and petting it.

"Guys! We can't keep a dog! That'll be another mouth to feed!" I tried to reason, but it looked like Daryl was already in love.

"We can get it some dog food or something!"

"Daryl-" he looked up at me with a fake pout, holding up the dog.

"How can you say no to this?" he asked in a baby voice.

I stared at him through slanted eyes, Michonne laughing at us. Finally, I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"Fine, you can keep it-"

"Her."

"Fine, you can keep her. But if it dies.." I warned, giving him a look. He smiled and kissed the dog on it's head.

I looked at Michonne and we shared a look, both of us smiling.

"You may have just been replaced, Kyra," she joked.

"Yeah, I think I might be getting the boot."

Daryl made a 'pfft' noise and stood up, the dog following on his heels.

"So, seriously. What are you gonna name it?" I asked, bending down to try and pet her. She let me, licking my hand.

"Either AssKicker or Darylette," he joked, or at least I hoped he was.

"How about Michonne and I get to pick the name..?" I suggested, and he shrugged.

"Sounds fine to me. I still think Darylette is a good name, but.."

"This is why you won't have a say in what we name our children," I told him jokingly, standing up and patting his head. He smiled and gave me a small peck on the mouth.

"We're naming the first born Daryl Jr., so joke all you want."

"Over my dead body," I joked back, looking over to see the dog was jumping on Michonne.

"I can arrange that, you know?"

I playfully hit him, and he hit me back. The dog growled at us, and all three of us laughed.

"Bonnet?" Michonne asked out of the blue.

"I like Bonnet," I answered, nodding my head.

"Great. My dogs gonna be a puss."

"That's a cat, Daryl. This is a dog. D-o-g. Dog." Michonne joked, grinning.

I could cope with having a dog. At least it would take our minds off the pressure of having kids for now. And Daryl would stop stressing for a little bit. Maybe.

/

Sorry for the late, suckish chapter. More coming your way! Review!


	51. Chapter 51

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Another morning waking up next to Daryl. Another morning rolling over and setting my head on his chest, waiting for him to wake up. It was so peaceful in the mornings, when the sun was just coming up and I didn't have to worry about winter coming or Bonnet running off. I could just lay here and listen to Daryl snore.

It had been a few days since we had found Bonnet, who was pretty smart. She had learned her name and never left Daryl's side. When Michonne had said I had been replaced, she was joking. But, it had nearly come true. Instead of curling up next to me on the couch after all the days labor is done and we're just resting, sits down and calls for Bonnet, who charges in and jumps in his lap. Despite me begging him to keep her off the furniture.

Although, I had drawn the line after he set his bowl down in the floor and let her lick out of it.

"Daryl, I don't want her begging for food and we have to eat out of those!" I had sighed, all three of us sitting in the large dining room. Four if you count Bonnet.

"We wash these dishes. And she'd beg anyway," Daryl argued, picking the bowl up.

"I'm serious. It's nasty," I gave him a look and turned to Michonne, asking for help.

"It is kind of gross.." she had added, shrugging and giving Daryl a sympathetic look.

"Fine," he huffed, "I won't feed the dog."

Bonnet was currently living on a heap of old cardboard boxes and spare blankets in the nursery. It was "her room". The next thing we know, he's painting "Bonnet" in pink letters and letting her sleep in that crib. At least I didn't have to give birth to this one.

Daryl stirred beside me, well, really beneath me, and rolled over. Even though he was asleep, his arms wrapped around me protectively, instinctively. Almost animal like. They tensed around me, and he made a low growling sound before he continued snoring. I smiled, burying my face in his chest, and wondered what he was dreaming to make him act so weird.

Mornings were the best. Daryl was so out of it in the mornings. When he first woke up, he seemed happy. Like seriously happy. I often fought with myself over stuff like that. If he was happy. That was pretty much my goal in life, seeing as how I didn't have anything else to live for. And I felt like I was constantly screwing things up. If it weren't for me, Daryl would still be a loved member of Rick's council, and be at the prison. If it weren't for me, we wouldn't have had to leave the prison. If it weren't for me, Daryl wouldn't have had to feel the pain of losing his baby. I was just an extra thing to worry about. So, was I a burden? Or did he really not care about any of that, did he think everything was worth it to be with me?

I made myself stop being negative. Obviously he had to feel something towards me or he wouldn't go through the struggle of trying to keep me happy. The vows, the moving from place to place, everything down to making sure I wasn't too hot or too cold at night.

We hadn't had sex last night. Both of us were exhausted from the long days work, and even more exhausted realizing tomorrow would be just as bad. Until winter came, every day would be a busy day. No rest until the sun went down.

But, since we hadn't had sex, I figured waking him up with morning sex could be a good call. We hadn't done that in awhile, and what guy doesn't like morning sex? That's right, the answer is every guy likes morning sex.

I leaned up, pressing on his arm gently. No budge. I scooted closer, so my mouth was by his ear and one of my hands was in his hair while the was on his chest.

"Daryl.." I cooed, making his lip twitch. "Daryl, baby, it's time to get up.." It was like I was really talking to a little baby.

He grunted, his eyes fluttering open for a second, before closing again.

"What?" he asked, sleep oozed from his voice.

"You need to wake up," I grinned, straddling his chest.

"Kyra, what the hell are you- oh." he stopped mid sentence, looking up at me with a mixture of sleepiness and curiosity. One of his hands cradled the back of his head, the other pressed against my back.

"Are you awake?" I asked in that baby voice.

"Yes m'am," he answered, his hand moving up and down my back.

"Good," I bent down and kissed his neck, leaving a trail. He was already shirtless. All I had to worry about were the sweat pants.

He softly pulled my away, both of his hands on my shoulder. What?

"Ok, if we're gonna do this it's gonna have to be fast. We still have a lot of fence to fix," he told me, a disappointed look on his face.

"Then why are we wasting time?" I asked, pulling my shirt up over my head and throwing it in the floor. Daryl shrugged and pulled me back to him, kissing me.

His hands were on my back, fumbling with the hook of my bra. I swatted his hands away, quickly doing it myself. I don't think we've ever really pulled a 'quickie' before.

"Why am I shirtless and you still have your pants on?" I asked against his month, making him chuckle. He nearly pushed me off him, pulling his own pants off and letting them join the floor.

"Your turn," he laughed, laying on his side. I stared at him for a second, taking in Daryl Dixon in just underwear. It was possibly the sexiest form of Daryl Dixon.

I obliged, taking the shorts off. He pulled me back to him, our chests pressed together as he reconnected the kiss, one hand wrapped around my back, the other one tugged at the underwear.

Just as he was pushing them off, the door bursted open. Daryl instinctively pushed me away, and I toppled off the bed, letting out a short scream as I hit the floor with a thud. I grabbed at a sheet and covered my self, shooting Daryl a look.

"This damned dog has been scratching on the-" Michonne stopped mid sentence, Bonnet ran over and jumped on the bed beside Daryl. She instantly cracked a smile, putting a hand on her hip. I felt the usual blush creep up my neck. "Did I interrupt something?"

"Actually, you did," I huffed, playfully scowling at her.

"Oops," she put her hands up, her grin was too wide for her to act like she was sincerely sorry.

Daryl groaned, falling back on the bed and covering his face with a pillow.

"Daryl, could you use that pillow to, I don't know, cover your man parts?" I hissed, realizing he hadn't bothered to cover up his underwear clad self.

"Oh," he said, and snatched my pillow.

"Ok, I'll just leave you two alone.. And I promise to knock next time.." she backed out of the room, and then we could hear her howling laughter all the way down the hall.

I stood up, snatching my clothes off the ground in frustration.

"What, are we not gonna finish?" Daryl asked as I put my bra back on. I stared at him and shook my head.

"No, Daryl. I'm so not in the mood anymore."

"Sassy," he mumbled, getting out of the bed and locating a pair of jeans.

"Don't call me that," I shot back, picking up a pair of old khaki shorts and wiggling in to them.

"Why not? It should be your middle name," he retorted. His back was to me as he buttoned up a blue flannel shirt, no sleeves. I picked up a pair of socks and threw them at him. He turned and looked at me, squinting his eyes.

"Yup, you've crossed the line," he sighed, mockingly cracking his neck. I backed up against the dresser, holding my hands out in front of me as I grinned.

"Daryl.." I warned, but he continued walking towards me instead of listening.

"Nope, you've went and done it now," he shook his head. Bonnet looked at us from the pile of clothes she was laying on, and then resumed her rolling around in it.

"Daryl Dixon," I held a finger up as he crept closer.

"Kyra Dixon," he retorted, a smile on his face.

"Don't-"

He lunged after me, throwing me over his shoulder. I squealed and hit his back, and that didn't nothing.

He threw me on the bed, both of us laughing, me more than him. Daryl crawled on top of me and kissed me for a second, but then Bonnet started growling at us, and he reluctantly rolled off.

"Still like the dog?" I sighed, sitting up and finding a shirt.

"Yes. Even though I hate her right now, yes."

/

So, I've decided that instead of posting every day (because I've been getting behind) I'll post every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. That way I'll have the weekend and days in between to completely devote myself to writing.

Review! Also, after last nights episode (Hershel! *sobs*) I have my theme for the sequel!

Any suggestions on finishing this story up? Then Review and/or message me!


	52. Chapter 52

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO  
I woke with the old urge to go outside and check for walkers. I hadn't had that urge in a few days since we'd been fixing the fence, but here it was, the pressure building inside of me. My gut twisted around, telling me there was something out there. Something big. But wether or not it was something dangerous was a mystery to me and my gut.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ignore it. Daryl would be heart broken if I went out there. He thought I was finally over my obsession with the roof. But, apparently I wasn't. And according to my gut, I had no other choice but to go out there right now and check. Even if it was wrong, I could be dodging a bullet.

I looked over my shoulder at Daryl, watched him sleep, snoring softly. I sighed, and crept away from him reluctantly. He probably wouldn't wake up this time. But, in a sick way I wanted him to wake up. I wanted him to ask me not to go or just come with me. That way I wouldn't feel like I was sneaking behind his back.

I tiptoed over to the window and slowly raised it, grabbing my flashlight, and crept out onto the roof. I sat on top of the house for a second, my eyes closed, the flashlight in my hand, and debated on even turning the flashlight on. I could just as easily turn around and go back inside and act like it had never happened.

My eyes snapped open at a sound below me. I looked out over the field and couldn't see anything, then I remembered the flashlight and quickly turned it on, sweeping the ground down below. I caught something, a leg maybe? I ran back over the land, nothing but some trees and grass. One more time, this time I know I saw something. A face.

My heart pumped faster as my flashlight froze on the spot where I had seen the face, too far away to tell what it was. My hand shook, and I thought 'God, is a walker hiding from me? Really?'

My breath came fast and uneven, making my chest rise and fall in weird ways. I brushed my short hair back and squinted my eyes, trying to see. But nothing. Maybe I was really just paranoid.

Something moved again. I squeaked involuntarily and cursed myself for not bringing my gun.

"Who's out there?" I called out foolishly, wishing I hadn't. Walkers don't talk back. And now Michonne probably heard and woke up and thinks you're stupid. Or crazy.

Again, something moved under my flashlight. A lady. With jeans and a T-shirt and long stringy blonde hair and thick glasses. She held her hands up as in surrender and I realized she was human.

"Please! Don't shoot!" she called out over the range between us. Probably a good 100 yards.

My heart stopped and I stared at this woman. Was she alone? I couldn't see. I glanced back at the window, wanting to call for Daryl. What should I do? Oh my god..

"Who are you?" I yelled, mentally hitting myself.

"We're just looking for a place to stay for the night!" she yelled back.  
'We're'? As in more than one? Oh, god. I needed to get Michonne and Daryl.

"Can you just wait right there for a second?" I yelled, nervously standing.

"We have children!"

"Alright! Just wait there for just a minute!"

I didn't want to take my eyes off that women, or trust her really. But, I turned from her and nearly ran back inside.

"Daryl!" I yelled, making him spaz out.

"What?" he yelled back, sitting up and shielding his eyes from the flashlight I hadn't realized I was pointing directly at him.

"There's people outside!"

"Walkers?"

"No! Alive people!"

He jumped up, grabbing a pair of pants from the floor and a shirt, I ran out the door to Michonne's room.

"Michonne!" I stood a few feet away, not sure how she would react.

"Michonne!" I yelled again, and this time she stirred.

"What?" she asked hazily.

"There's people outside. Get your sword and let's go," I told her urgently, leaving the room to go back to Daryl, who was buttoning his shirt. I grabbed my gun off the dresser and sat on the bed, putting my boots on. When I was done, I threw my knife down in my boot, grabbed my gun from the bed, made sure it was loaded, and left the room, Daryl following behind me.

Michonne met us out in the hall way, sword on her back and flash light in hand and the three of us walked out the back door together.

The woman had done as I said and stayed put by the trees. We cautiously walked up to her, flash lights up and weapons at the ready. We didn't know who was hiding out of sight.

Daryl stepped forward, bow aimed up and ready.

"Who are you?" he asked, a few feet away from her. The girl looked kind of dorky, kind of tall and lanky with awkward features, thick glasses that she kept nervously pushing up and stringy blonde hair that's dead ends should've been cut long ago.

"I'm Morgan," she answered, her hands clasped together in front of her.

"You said you had children?" I spoke up, shining my light at her. She squinted against it and I lowered it a little.

"Yes, three. I have six people in all," she answered me. She was good at answering.

"Where are they?" Daryl asked, looking around.

The woman pointed behind her to more trees. There were sure enough five figures, three of them kid sized, standing in the shadows.

"And you need a place to stay?" Michonne asked, letting go of her sword.

"Only for one night!" she quickly added, looking timid. She turned and waved to the figures and they emerged, taking a few seconds before they got there.

"This is my husband, Raul," she pointed to a tall, dark colored man with a shaved head. He stood over her tall frame, and they oddly seemed perfect together, "and our three sons: Jamie, Robert, and Marcus," she pointed to the three boys, all looking about 7,8, and 9. "And this is Raul's brother, Tray."

Tray was tall, more tall than Raul. He was also much more buffer and was quiet. He had a chiseled jaw and was quite handsome in the awful lighting of our flashlights.

"I'm Daryl," he introduced himself, "This is my wife, Kyra, and our close friend, Michonne," they all nodded, and it was awkward. We were standing in the middle of a field, nodding and introducing ourselves at what could only be midnight, if not later.

"So, can we stay?" Raul asked, and he had a deep, calming voice.

The three of us looked at each other questioningly.

Daryl walked back to us and we began whispering.

"Can we trust them?" Michonne whispered.

"I can't let those kids leave and keep a clear conscious," I whispered back, looking over to the three cuties, tugging on their moms pants leg. She lifted the youngest one and put him on her hip. Which one was that? Jamie?

"But, what about the adults?" Michonne shot back.

"I think the moral thing to do is let them stay," Daryl piped up, looking over his shoulder at them.

"I don't know.." Michonne seemed uneasy.

"Just for one night. And then we question them in the morning and see where it takes us," Daryl suggested, his bow resting on his foot. Well, they let their guard down awful early. My gun was still at the ready and I didn't 100% trust these people.

"It's the right thing to do," I added, putting my guns safety on and pocketing it.

"I guess," Michonne shrugged, and Daryl turned to the family.

"You can stay here for the night-"

"Thank you!" Morgan nearly shouted, her hands clasping together like she was praying.

"But, we're not sure if we can trust you. So, you'll be sleeping in the living room and we'll have a talk over breakfast tomorrow."


	53. Chapter 53

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE  
I sat on the top of the stairs, my head against the side of the wall. Michonne, Daryl, and I had decided that we'd have a watch and if any of them tried anything to yell, and the other two would be there.

So, it was my turn. It's not like I had slept before my turn anyway. Neither had Daryl. We had just laid there, staring at the ceiling.

"Are you asleep?" I asked, my hands on my stomach.

"No," he answered. One of my hands snaked down to his and we held hands.

I don't know why I was so scared. It wasn't that Raul or Tray or even Morgan were scary. They looked really nice, actually. And Morgan seemed to be a sweet lady and good mother. I passed it off as new people scare me.

Eventually, Michonne came in and told him that it was his turn. He kissed my forehead before he left, grabbing his bow from the door way.

He wasn't gone but two hours before he lazily slouched back in, looking extremely tired.

I stood up, knowing it was my turn for the watch. I grabbed my moccasins and slipped them on, just in case I needed to run, grabbed my gun, and walked to the door.

"Wait," Daryl stopped me outside of the door, whispering.

"What?" I asked, straining to see what his facial expression was in the dark.

"You went out there again."

A burst of pain shot through me and I felt the need to cry. I hated to disappoint him, and I had. Big time. Why couldn't I have just stayed in and let those people knock on the door?

"Yeah," I answered him.

"It wasn't a question."

More hurting of my heart. It was like he had given me a second chance to trust him, and I failed.

"Daryl, I'm-"

"We'll talk about it later," he sighed, setting his bow down in a corner and calling for Bonnet, who jumped from our tub and ran over. He laid down and she jumped on top of him. How long had she been sleeping in the tub?

I left silently, and now here I was, sitting on the steps, trying to stay awake.

I looked down the stairs in the dark and I could barely see one of the mattresses corners from the living room. We had came in, drug down to mattresses from the vacant rooms, and let them sleep on those. We gave them plenty of blankets and pillows, and I'm 99.9% sure that Tray had to sleep on the couch. But, we were already doing a lot and I wasn't about to let them sleep upstairs with us. Not yet. I felt like I morally had to let them stay, but I would put an end to their lives if they posed a threat to any of the three of us.

I heard a footstep behind me, and I turned quickly, all at once turning the safety off on my gun and pulling the little hammer back. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Daryl in the door way.

"I can't sleep," he mumbled/whispered as he sat down beside me, completely ignoring my gun. I quickly turned the safety back on and sat it behind me.

"I couldn't either," I whispered back, hoping we weren't keeping any of our guests awake.

Daryl put his head in his hands, seeming extremely frustrated.

"What am I going to do about those people?" he asked into his hands, sighing loudly. I put my hand on his back, which I realized was bare, and shook my head.

"We can't just send them away. They have three kids, Daryl."

"I wasn't suggesting that," he sat up and my hand fell back in my lap.

"I didn't say you were," I shrugged, my whisper getting even lower.

We sat in silence for a few more minutes.

"I need a cigarette," he nearly growled, wiping his mouth. Anger flared up in me for a second before I calmed myself down.

"No you don't. And besides, I threw them all out," I leaned against the wall again and looked at him sideways.

"You did what?" he asked, turning to look at me too.

"I threw them out," I whispered, looking him in the eye.

"Great," he mumbled, and surprised me by putting his arm around my shoulders and hugging me to him.

"You're not mad?" I asked, looking up at him, my arms went around his torso.

"No. I told you I would quit," he said simply. His hand moved up and down my side and I smiled.

"Good."

Was it bad that almost liked it when he smoked? As much as it annoyed me it somehow made him less perfect, and it comforted me. Knowing that he had his faults as well made me seem more ok with my faults. The smell of his cigarette smoke also comforted me at times. When we were laying in bed and he would light a cigarette, it somehow made me feel even better. But, I was glad he was quitting.

"But you know this means I'm going to drink more, right?" he asked, his mouth by my ear. I laughed, low and breathy, and leaned up to kiss his cheek.

"That's alright with me."

"Now I can have lung and liver failure," he kissed me back, catching my mouth. Just a short, sweet kiss.

"You're funny," I said sarcastically, leaning against him.

More silence, and the occasional sound of someone moving down in the living room and the obvious sound of Michonne pacing in her room. She didn't seem like a pacer to me. But, it was either she was pacing or practicing for a mall walking competition. Option number one seemed like a better fit.

"So, while we're here, let's talk about you going outside, again," he said after a little bit, and I leaned away from him and sighed, his arm dropping from my shoulders.

"I'm sorry, really-"

"You shouldn't have to apologize. I mean, obviously it amounted to some good. You seen that family and they can get some rest now. But, I thought you quit going out there. It's not that you did it, it's that you lied."

I put both hands on the side of his face, making him look at me.

"Daryl Dixon, I didn't lie. When I said I stopped going out there, I really did stop. I haven't been out there in at least a week. I just woke up with the urge to go out there. It was like... I don't know.." I felt uncomfortable saying what I wanted to and I dropped my hands, along with my gaze, from him.

This time it was him who brought my gaze back, lifting my chin with with his index finger and thumb.

"Like what?" he asked, his voice sounded so serious. It was unusual to the normal Daryl. But I definitely liked it.

"Like..." I took a deep breath, "Like God was telling me to go out there."

He looked at me for a second and I thought 'I don't even know if Daryl believes in God and Jesus and if he believes in anything at all.' I couldn't believe that I hadn't touched base with that subject before!

"So, you think God told you?" he asked, with his free hand he brushed hair out of my face.

"Yeah," I whispered, although we were already whispering. It was like an octave lower.

"That's incredible," and he leaned in and lightly kissed me like he did earlier, then put his arm around and me.

Wow. Two surprises in one night.

"So, you're not mad I went out there?"

"No. Especially if J.C. told you to."

J.C.? Who's that..? Oh, Jesus Christ. I hadn't said Jesus. But, at least I think that means he believes in him, too.

"Good. Because I think it's a miracle we found them. Like they're going to be a big part of our lives," I leaned against him again, shivering even though it was at least 70 degrees.

"I feel like a refuge camp," he added, squeezing me gently. We both chuckled slightly.

"You should go back to bed, honey. You're gonna need your rest for the little meeting tomorrow," I suggested, not realizing I had called him honey until after I said it. It was so.. husband/wife. I smiled at the thought.

"I'm good here. If I go back there I'm just going to be awake and lonely."

"Hey, speaking of lonely, when did you start letting Bonnet sleep in the tub?" I asked, turning to look at him through the slowly rising sun. I wouldn't even say it was rising. It was barely even coming up, the sky was just a lighter gray now.

"Well, I don't normally. But, I don't want to leave her unattended with new people," he shrugged and I stifled a laugh. He had found something to obsess over and protect. I suppose, something to fill the void where his child was supposed to be.

"I doubt they eat dogs, Daryl," I kissed his shoulder and looked up to see him smile.

"You never know. Who know's when the last time they ate."

My heart seemed to stop once again.

"Oh my goodness! We didn't even ask if they were hungry!" I whisper/shouted.

"It's ok. We'll feed them when they wake up," he said softly, playing with my hair.

"Mm.. Ok," I shrugged, biting my lip. I thought about the adorable little boys and worried about the last time they ate. I hadn't gotten that good of look at them, but they didn't look hungry. Just scared.

"Aren't the little boys the cutest?" I asked after a second, as we were moving around so he was leaned against the wall and I was leaned against him, in between his legs. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and I leaned back against him.

"Yeah," and you could hear the longing his voice. I felt so bad that I hadn't delivered his baby like he wanted. I didn't even know that he wanted kids that badly and now that I do I felt terrible. More than terrible. I felt responsible.

"You'll have kids too, Daryl." I kissed one of his hands by my shoulder.

"But, you've already had one miscarriage. What if that means you can't have kids?" he sounded heart broken and I wondered how long he's thought about this.

"That was just one miscarriage. A lot of women have miscarriages and then have wonderful, healthy pregnancies and even healthier babies," I reassured him.

"Yours was a four month miscarriage. It's different."

I sighed and patted his arm, feeling even more frustrated.

"It is different. But, that doesn't mean I can't have kids."

"If you say so-"

"I do." I said firmly, my heart felt like someone was squeezing it and my throat felt constricted.

More silence. The sun was higher now, and I closed my eyes for a second.

A second turned into a dream, a dream turned into me waking up sometime later, in the bed. I sat up and looked around, not seeing anyone. I looked out the window. It was still early.

I stood up and slipped my moccasins on, yawning and running a hand through my hair before I walked out. Daryl and Michonne were sitting on the stairs and I sat in the middle of them.

"They're still asleep," Michonne told me, looking exhausted.

"Did you get any?" I asked, the look on her face said it all.

"None."

"And you?" I asked, turning to Daryl. He shook his head no and I noticed he was now fully dressed.

"How long was I out?"

"Probably two hours. Not long."

I sighed, wishing it was more. I needed a nice, deep sleep.

"So you were on the roof last night?" Michonne asked. I groaned dramatically and laid my head on Daryl's shoulder.

"Yeah," he answered for me, "We've already talked about it."

"Oh," was all Michonne said, giving us a skeptical look.

We heard a creak down stairs, and footsteps.

"Mama?" one of the little boys asked, "Where are we?"

"They're up," Daryl sighed, standing up.

I took a deep breath and stood up too, and all three of us walked down the stairs together.

/

I know how I'm gonna end this story, I just need to know how to get there.. Working out the kinks. Girr. I'll get there!

Next chapter comes Monday! Review!


	54. Chapter 54

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR  
The six of us sat in the giant dining room while the young ones ran around the living playing. Their dad, Raul, had asked us to let them eat breakfast with us before we started our business talk. And we had happily obliged, serving them canned fruit. It wasn't much, but at least they had eaten. According to Morgan they hadn't touched food for at least three days.

So, here we were, Tray, Raul, and Morgan sat across from us, in that order, and I was in the middle with Michonne to my left, sitting across from Tray, and Daryl to my right, sitting across from Morgan.

We were done with breakfast and now it was just business and questioning. Michonne and Daryl weren't big talkers, so I was the one designated to ask questions, supposing they would put in their two cents every now and then.

I sighed and began, my hands on the table. It wasn't that Raul intimidated me. He seemed like a really nice man. It was just the fact that they were strangers.

"Where you guys from?" I asked, sitting up too straight for my liking. I was normally slouchy. But, today I felt like I was trying to be a princess. I hope I didn't come off that way. I didn't dress that way. I was in Forrest green jeans tucked into my boots and a gray shirt on under a light jacket, brown and almost like a cardigan more than a jacket. I would have had my hair back in a braid or pony tail, but it was much too short for that.

"We're from Northern Tennessee. Nashville," Raul answered. He, on the other hand, was in beaten up jeans and a long sleeve shirt. They looked very lived in. Him and Tray almost matched, except for Trays shirt was red with Mickey Mouse on it and Raul had a simple yellow shirt. Morgan was wearing the same thing she was yesterday.

"Ah. And what were you doing there. Before," I gestured to the window behind the three of them and Morgan turned to look.

"I was a preacher," Raul once again answered. "I had a church Nashville, nothing big and fancy. And Morgan was a therapist," she smiled and nodded.

"And you?" Daryl spoke up, eyeing Tray. I nudged him with my boot. He was being kind of rude and I actually liked these people.

Tray looked uncomfortable and he shifted in his seat, crossing his huge arms. And tilting his chin up.

"I was in the Navy," he sniffed, his voice was deep and matched him perfectly.

"Really?" I asked, giving him an appreciated look.

"He didn't get past the boot camp before all the dead people started walking around," Morgan piped up.

I nodded and looked at Michonne and Daryl nervously.

"What brought you guys down here to Georgia?" I asked my next question, rehearsing all of them over and over in my head so I wouldn't forget them.

"We heard that Florida was unaffected and started heading out here with the kids. But," he lowered his voice, "we realized about half way here it was just a rumor. Ran into some Florida folk. Their entire family was wiped out, said the beaches were covered. We didn't have the heart to tell the boys that, so we kept going."

Another head nod from me.

"Were you with anyone?" I asked, repeating the question just like I rehearsed. But, after his story about running in to the people from Florida, I felt a bit ridiculous. He just said he was there, smart one.

"What do you mean?" Morgan asked, leaning up and adjusting her glasses.

"Were you with anyone? Like, were you traveling with any groups or just another person?" I tried to keep a straight face, but I was really bad at this questioning business.

"We've had people come and go," Raul answered, and I wondered why Tray wouldn't. Maybe he was just shy.

"Did any of them die?" Michonne asked, giving them that oh familiar look that she didn't trust them.

"Some did, yeah." Raul nodded, and he looked almost pained.

"Were any in cold blood?" I felt like a judge and they were the bad person who claims they didn't murder their neighbor.

"No!" Morgan spoke up defensively, and I put my hands up to calm her.

"I'm not accusing, Morgan. Just making sure. I can't be too careful."

"Have you ever killed someone, Miss Kyra?" Raul asked, crossing his arms. The way they both leaned back like that, Raul and Tray were nearly identical. Except for the obvious size difference.

"No," I said easily, although I thought back to Jack. I'm glad I didn't kill him that way I'm able to keep my clean slate.

"And you, Daryl?" Raul turned to him, and Daryl flinched. He pursed his lips and stared back at Raul. Damn it, Raul.

"Yeah, I have." he answered simply, and Morgans wide eyes went wider.

"Only to protect others," I added, giving Daryl a look that seemed to go unnoticed by anyone except for Tray, who seemed to be analyzing everything.

Raul and Daryl stared at each other for a moment more before Raul turned.

"And you, forgive me, is it, Michonne?"

"Yeah, I have. To protect myself and the ones I care about. You have to now a days. So don't start judging us. We're supposed to be questioning you," she huffed, looking him up and down.

"Raul," I spoke softly, playing with the ring on my finger, "if it was to save your family, you would have, too."

"Now, I'm not judging," he threw his hands up, "you gotta do what you gotta do. All I'm saying is, I've never had to kill anyone. I've always found a way around it. A more peaceful, godly approach."

"When someone's holding your best friends life in their hands you quit thinkin' about being peaceful," Daryl spit out, and I wondered who he was talking about. I knew about the prisoners who were originally at the prison and wondered if he was talking about that.

"Next question," I said quickly, reaching over and grabbing Daryl's hand. His leg was bouncing up and down and he was obviously pissed off. "Have you killed any walkers?"

"Walkers? I like that," Morgan said absentmindedly.

"Yeah. But, only the ones that we had to."

"So, if it came down to it, you would take out your own son?"

Tray flinched, but quickly regained his composure. My eyes darted from him, back to Raul and I wondered what that was about.

"What do you mean?" Raul look mortified, as did Morgan.

"If one of your sons happened to be bitten, could you take his life?" I asked, keeping a straight face.

"I.. I don't know."

Damn. That wasn't the answer we were looking for.

"Raul, it's a yes or no question," I pressed, "It's either your son, who isn't really your son anymore, or you or Morgan, or Tray, or another son."

He wiped his mouth and sighed.

"Yeah, I suppose I could take him out." he said stiffly.

"What about you, Morgan? Tray?" I looked at them both, first Morgan, and then Tray. Morgan looked like she was going to cry. Tray nodded solemnly.

"Morgan?" I repeated. She shoved her glasses up with a small hand.

"Y-yes," she squeaked, and her once defiant voice faded away to one that suited her appearance.

"Good."

"Would you?" Raul asked, looking at me like I was a bully.

"Yes," I said too quickly, sticking my chin up.

"Daryl?"

"I've taken out my own brother. I think I can handle it," he glared at Raul and I prayed that his walls would crumble and if this family got to stay, they would be able to be some sort of friends.

Michonne didn't need to answer. She basically breathed bad ass air and exhaled I'll whip your ass. She sat with her arms crossed over her stomach, her sword leaned against the chair beside her.

"Next question," I said tightly, getting slightly annoyed with Raul. I was supposed to be the one asking questions and he continually interrupted me. "Can you work?"

I hated saying it. I felt like a dictator, but we did need some workers. The three of us were exhausted from having to share the heap of work this place required. We needed some workers.

"Us," Tray spoke up, "Not the kids."

"No!" I quickly said, "I didn't mean the kids!"

His nostrils flared and I got the hint that he didn't like me. Did any of them like any of us? And I didn't like the way I said 'us'. Like they weren't like us, and they were. They were lost just like us and we were just fortunate enough to find this place first.

"Do you have any vehicles, weapons, or any kind of supply we can use?" I asked, "That is," I added on, "if you stay."

"We have two guns, but the bullets have been used," Raul answered.

Guns? I hadn't seen any guns on them before.. Where were they? Instead of asking, I just nodded.

"So, are there any more questions?" Morgan asked, nervously wiping hair behind her ear, making her look more dorky. It was a good, cute dorky, though.

I looked back and forth between Michonne and Daryl. I didn't know what to say. I felt like they were ok to stay. I trusted them. But, did Michonne and Daryl?

"No, I don't think so," I mumbled, dropping my gaze to the table.

"So did we pass your little test?" Raul asked.

Daryl nodded, "Yeah. You can stay. But, if threaten my family, I will send you packing."

"Of course," Raul reached across the table, holding his hand out. Daryl looked at it for a second and I thought oh god, he's not going to take it. But, he did, shaking his hand firmly, and I prayed he didn't try to be manly and squeeze it.

"We have a few rooms upstairs. We'll get you guys situated." I stood up, feeling like a hotel attendant. My heart ached, thinking I would probably have to give up the nursery that I so badly wanted my first kid to have.

One room for Morgan, Raul, Robert, Marcus, and Jamie, and one room for Tray. And I didn't even have a real bed for the boys or Tray. And there was just a twin bed for Morgan and Raul. We'd have to do some shopping soon.

The three followed me upstairs, Michonne and Daryl bringing up the rear. I showed them the three rooms to pick from.

Morgan stood in the middle of the nursery, looking slightly different from when we first got here. The bookshelf had been picked up and everything was just straightened and looked nicer.

"Nursery?" she asked, turning back to us.

I nodded, Tray already situated in his room. We had moved the bed back upstairs, it was by Michonne's room.

"I was thinking, since there would be five of you in here, that Daryl and I can give you the master bedroom and we can move in here."

"Yeah," Daryl said behind me, and my gut twisted. I really didn't want to give up my room or this nursery.

"No, of course not!" Raul quickly stepped in.

"Really," I nearly begged. "You guys would be so crowded in here. And the rooms too big for Daryl and I anyway."

She gave me a bashful smile and looked at Raul, who nodded and smiled at Daryl and I, Daryl's arm around my waist.

So, it was settled. They would take our room and we would move into the nursery.

What would we do if more people showed up? Where would we put them? Even if we moved everything around and got some more beds into the rooms and doubled up on people, there were only four rooms on this house. And I couldn't turn anyone away.

We showed them their new room and Bonnet jumped from the tub, scaring the piss out of Morgan. Daryl had laughed and calmed the mutt down.

"Well, while it's still early we should organize a raid to get some beds for the boys and of course we'll need one," I squeezed Daryl's arm lightly.

"I can take Raul and Tray and we can see how many beds we can shove in the back of the truck," Dadyl suggested, a playful look on his face.

"For now we just need mattress," I shrugged, thinking we could just lay in the floor for now. Or forever. It didn't matter to me. "And blankets and pillows," I added.

So, within the hour, the three men were off to get some supplies, the three little boys complaining because they wanted to go.

Michonne was in her room and Tray was in his, Morgan played with the kids in the living room and I sat on the couch.

"Well, I guess I'll go move my stuff from your room into my new room," I sighed, standing up.

"I can help!" she piped up, dropping the rock she was 'driving' around.

"Sure," I shrugged. No need in denying help.

We went upstairs and I instantly began taking clothes out of the dresser. There was one in the other room. We worked in silence for a few minutes, moving clothes back and forth. We didn't have many possessions. So, eventually it was all in the floor of the nursery- err- the new room.

Morgan insisted on helping me fold the clothes, so I let her. And we sat in the floor making piles of clothes.

She sat the shirt down she had been folding and set it down, looking at me.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked, picking up another shirt.

"Sure," I answered absentmindedly, sitting criss-crossed in the floor.

"Daryl's obviously older than you.. Can I ask about that? Or is it a touchy subject?"

I cracked a smile. I was waiting for her to ask.

"No, I'm an open book. What would you like to know?" I asked, trying to hide my smile. I didn't want her to think that I was laughing at her.

"Well, how long have you two been married?"

"Not long," I flashed a smile, giving a vague answer. I wasn't sure how to answer that. Daryl and I would have to talk about that.

She nodded, making an odd face like she was thinking hard about it.

"Ok, I could be way off about this, but... Did... Did he rape you?" she looked nervous, and I instantly burst into laughter. She looked horrified mixed with confusion and a small, confused smile managed to work her way on her face.

"No, no.. He didn't rape me. If anything, I raped him," I laughed again, my gut began hurting and I wiped a tear out of my eye. "I'm kidding," I put a hand on her knee, and her horrified look dimmed down a little bit.

"Well, I didn't know if he had and your parents found out and they made you marry him or something. If they were crazy and wanted to make you an 'honest woman'. I don't know... I was just making sure," she flashed a smile and then grabbed another shirt.

"Don't worry about it," I picked up another shirt and put on my best reassuring smile, "I can take care of myself. No guy can take advantage of me."

Why did I lie? She was a therapist, right? Maybe I should talk about Jack and my terrible experience with him. Maybe Morgan would be a good investment in the group. But, she didn't specify what kind of therapist she was. So, who knew. I didn't.


	55. Chapter 55

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE  
Daryl and I walked around the fence, his bow slung over his shoulder and both of our knives in their holsters. Mine being my boot, his being a sheath on his belt loop. We were quiet, enjoying the silence.

The tension at the house was crazy. I still wasn't sure if Daryl liked Raul, and vice versa and I wasn't sure if Tray liked me. I don't know why, but it bugged me. At the prison, I could give a fuck less if someone liked me. Because none of them did. But, why did it matter now?

Daryl never left my side, than God. I hadn't been left alone with Tray or Raul, and although we thought we could trust them, after Jack, there was no way I was going to easily. I hadn't even had to tell Daryl that.

"Kyra," he said suddenly, looking down at me.

"Yeah?" I asked, my hands in my pockets.

"I sure as hell miss my cigarettes," he huffed, shaking his head.

"We can get some more next time we go out," I sighed. While he was missing cigarettes, I had been craving alcohol. I needed something to calm my nerves and I found that at the bottom of a bottle and I didn't mind.

"No. I just- damn it. I want one so bad!" his fist balled up and for a second I flinched, then he was back to normal.

"I feel you. I want a drink so bad I'm dying," I picked my knife up out of my boot and took the cover off as we walked up to a walker. I quickly executed it, taking a red bandana out of my back pocket and wiping it off before replacing it.

"What, are you some kind of alcoholic now?" he chuckled, and I thought back to Bob and his battle.

"Possibly," I shrugged, smiling up at him. He grunted/smiled and I bit my lip, shielding my eyes from the sun.

"There's so much shit to be done around here and we're playing paddy-cake with the kids." he grunted after awhile, bending down and picking up a rock, examining it before laying it back down and continuing our walk.

"I know. We have a lot of stuff to do before winter gets here. It's crazy how much needs to be done." I sighed, running a hand through my hair. It was getting a little longer. It almost reached my chin at least. And Michonne did a great job of covering up the scar. None of the newbs seemed to see it yet.

We walked a little more in silence, a few leaves crunching under our feet. The fence went quite a ways and this was the first time we'd decided to do a perimeter check.

"I think we should leave Morgan and the kids here and go on a raid," I finally blurted out, making Daryl give me a look.

"Not with out someone from our group here," he said simply, looking in front of him.

"I know you don't trust them, but what can Morgan and three little boys exactly do? We need to get more supplies and we need a lot of people. And we can't let the boys stay alone, so let Morgan stay with them and the five of us can go out and divide and conquer."

"Why can't you just stay with Morgan?" he asked, again not looking at me. For the first time in awhile all I saw was red.

"Why don't you just stay with Morgan?" I screamed, throwing my hands up. "I'm not just a fucking housewife, Daryl! I can go on raids and get stuff! I'm sick of always being left behind and treated like a child!"

"I didn't say you were a housewife," he mumbled. I swear if he didn't look at me soon I was going to beat him with his own crossbow.

"Then quit treating me like one," I whispered through clenched teeth.

"Kyra, we're not having this conversation again. I can stand losing Tray or Raul. Maybe even Michonne, but I can't take losing you. So, I want you to stay behind on raids. That's final," he looked at me through the corner of his eyes. I hated when he was calm when I was flustered. It really pissed me the fuck off.

"Why do you get to say what's final?" I mumbled, crossing my arms like a little kid who just got put in the corner.

"Because."

What a generic answer. 'Because.' Because my foot is going up your ass. That's why.

"Whatever."

More silence, this time it was filled with angered tension.

"Why do you want to go so badly?" he asked and the frustration was very, very clear in his voice.

"Because I'm tired of having to be the one left behind every single time," I tried to explain, getting pissed off.

"It's better than you dying," he shrugged his bow off and aimed it, I squinted my eyes but whatever he was seeing I was obviously missing.

"I-"

"Shh.." he stuck his hand out, smacking me with his palm right in the face. I stared at him in shock, my hands going to my nose.

He walked forward and I followed him, ready to hit him.

Daryl walked closer to the fence, peering in the trees. As if on cue, a walker jumped out, followed by another. I grabbed my knife and threw the sheath down as Daryl fired at the first one. The walkers were followed by three more. I jumped over the fence, catching my leg, and knifed the first one in the head, using it as a shield to knock back two more as Daryl reloaded and jumped the fence beside me.

He shot the extra one as I stabbed the one under my walker. I stood up, grabbing my bandana.

"That was weird," I sighed, wiping off my knife. I turned to see his hand on his hip, staring at me. "What?" I asked.

"Why'd you jump the fence?" he sounded pissed and I tried not to roll my eyes.

"Because my only weapon is this knife. Why you get a bow, I get a knife. It was either let them mess up the fence or jump."

He picked up his arrows out of the walker heads before answering me, cleaning them before he even looked at me.

"It was risky and I could've handled it. This is why you don't get to go on raids," he shouldered the bow and climbed over the fence. I didn't follow.

"Are you kidding me?" I yelled, throwing my knife over the fence. "I did great! I killed three! You killed two!"

"It doesn't matter how many I killed! It matters that you jumped over the fence! You don't go over the fence!"

"You're ridiculous!" I screamed, climbing over the fence. I grabbed my knife and the sheath and sheathed the knife, setting it back in my boot. I started down the little pathway again, fuming.

"Kyra!" he yelled, following me.

"Don't 'Kyra' me! I'm not a damned child! Quit treating me like one!" my hands were balled into fist once again.

"Quit acting like one!"

"I'm not!" I screamed, this time it really was a shrill scream. I wiped back a quick tear before continuing.

More silence.

We finished our route without talking. And our silence continued on through lunch and dinner. Now, we were in bed and our backs were turned.

"Kyra?" he whispered beside me.

"Don't. Unless you want to be sent to the couch."

He sighed loudly and I could feel him turn around. The next time he spoke, his breath was on my ear.

"You can go on the next raid."

"You're still not getting laid," I huffed and to my complete frustration he chuckled.

"I'm not into getting laid. I'm into saying that as long as you don't pull any stunts, you can go on the next raid."

I turned around a stared at him for a second before leaning and giving him a small peck.

"Kay."

/

Sorry for the short, shitty chapter. Review lovies!


	56. Chapter 56

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX  
The next four weeks trudged by slowly. We finally finished the entire fence and it was awesome having Morgan help me out in the house, plus getting to play with the boys was fun. Daryl and Raul would play football or throw around a baseball with them while Morgan and I sat on the back porch and watched or just talked. It all seemed almost normal.

Michonne and Tray seemed to connect. For the first week they would share smiles over the books they were reading, although his was usually tight and he seemed awkward. She was awkward, too. Then, it was talking in passing. And then it was asking wether or not she thought that the MLK biography was worth the read or if he liked Stephen King. I would smile from a distance, neither one of them knowing I was watching. It was about damned time Michonne found someone. Maybe if it was just a friend for now.

But everything seemed sluggish. With the new group, all of our plans kind of spiraled away. We still needed to stock up for the winter that was soon coming. And we hadn't yet gotten the medical supplies. With three kids running around, constantly knocking stuff over and wrestling around, we needed the basics. And beyond.

One day when Morgan and I didn't have much to do and the boys were passed out, I just made a list of everything that needed to be done and felt completely overwhelmed. We needed to get food, medical stuff, more weapons, winter clothes, clothes period for the new comers, we needed to find gas heaters, we needed more blankets, books for the boys to read and learn, and for the cold winter days, different activities to keep them from going crazy. I was going to go crazy just thinking about it.

I had mentioned this to Daryl a few times, but he had just shrugged it off. The leaves were starting to turn brown and fall off and the weather was slowly getting colder. Fall was coming very soon and Jamie only had shorts and Robert and Marcus had pants, but they were worn out.

Today, I finally stood up and said something over the bowl of canned peaches.

"We should make a run today," I spoke up, sitting my Daryl on one side of the table.

"For what?" Raul asked, finishing off his fruit cocktail.

"For more supplies. I promised Michonne a long time ago that we'd get medical stuff, and we still haven't. The boys need clothes. We all need winter clothes. We need to find some gas heaters and more blankets. The winter won't be forgiving and we'll freeze to death before a walker can even get to us!" I threw my hands up, frustrated that these people weren't understanding the needs of the group.

"Where?" Morgan asked, pushing her glasses up and looking from Raul to Tray.

"I don't know. Out. We can hit a clinic or a hospital for the medical supplies. It'll be risky. But, worth it. We could raid some houses for some guns and such. Probably won't find much, but it'll be something. We're all out of ammo except for Daryl and knifes only go so far. For clothes we can hit any department store and food we can do houses, gardens, and try some super markets. It'll probably be an all day thing, but it needs to be done."

"I agree," Michonne spoke up, nodding her head.

"Same," Tray piped up a little later. Well, it wasn't really a 'pipe'. His voice was so low, I couldn't imagine it as one any way. But, either way I found it cute he agreed only right after Michonne.

Raul sighed and looked at his boys, who were one again playing with painted up rocks. It was sad and cute at the same time as they ran around the living room with the little things in their hands.

"Who's staying with the kids?" he asked.

"We need at least two cars going. So, you could just sit this one out," I suggested, thinking how nice a bike ride with Daryl would be. I probably wouldn't get it. We'd get stuck in the truck hauling food in the back, but whatever. It wasn't about personal issues right now, seeing as how Daryl and I hadn't been all that intimate since the newcomers. It was about the group as a whole. And we had many more issues at hand. A thousand more.

In the end, Morgan was left behind with her three kids. I don't think she really minded though. She didn't seem like the outdoorsy type and I doubt her cardio was very good.

I sat on the hood of the truck, the five of us crowded around the map beside me.

"Michonne, you, Raul, and Tray can take your car and head up here," he pointed to a small section on the map, "and Kyra and me can take here," he circled another section with his hand. "Any food, medicine, blankets, or weapon of any kind, grab it. We need anything we can find. In four hours, no later, meet us back here," he pointed to a spot in the middle. "We'll raid here last then go home."

"Kay, boss," Michonne smiled at him before her eyes darted back to the map.

"Do you guys need the map?" I asked, wondering how they were gonna get back to and forth without any clear directions.

"I'll be fine without it. I've been all over these roads," Daryl shrugged, handing the map to Michonne. She took it and nodded.

"She you in five hours," she commented before giving a last smile and turning, Raul and Tray following behind her.

I slid off the hood of the car and took out the pocket watch we stole from an antique shop from my jeans pocket, a gift Daryl given me forever ago to make up for making me take that pregnancy test. I'm sure the time was a little off, but it read 12:15. It hadn't had much use up until now.

"We need to meet them by the time this thing gets to 5:15," I told him, setting down in the passenger seat and slamming the door shut, the only way to close the creaky door.

"Will do," he answered, turning to the truck on and putting it into drive. We followed Michonne's car out of the drive way and through the gates.

"I'm glad we're finally getting this raid thing going," I said a few minutes later, putting my seatbelt on.

"Me too. We're getting pretty low on food."

And other stuff. But, food was a big priority.

I leaned my head and closed my eyes, pushing my jacket off. It was just a light, brown jacket. The same one I had been wearing for the past few days now. Daryl was still no sleeve-ing it. But, soon even he would have to wear his bike jacket or something.

"You tired?" he asked beside me, and I wished that we were already done with the raid so I could just lay beside him with my head on his chest and his arms wrapped around me and we could just sleep.

"I feel like I'm always tired," I sighed, balling the jacket up and setting it behind me.

"Me too. There's never any rest anymore. It's just going."

"At least we have the fence completed. That took a long time, so now we just have to work on winter."

"'Just,'" he huffed, and I fluttered my eyes open just in time to see him shake his head.

"I know that it's a lot of stuff. I should've planned this out better," I shrugged.

"How could you? We jumped the gun today," he leaned over and squeezed my knee. I sighed and unbuckled, scooting over beside him before putting on the other seatbelt.

We eventually went to a fork in the road and my heart leaped right out of my chest when Michonne's car took the one opposite of us.

"Do you think they'll be in one piece?" I nearly whispered, my throat felt restricted.

"They'll be fine."

It was so simple. They'll be fine. I wish that I could really believe that, but it was so hard to when I've already lost so many people.

We arrived at a peewee town with one red light. It would take hours to sweep this place out. It took us over half an hour just to get here, let alone actually go through the entire place.

"Where do we start?" I asked, holding on to his arm as we sat at the stop light, a small gas station on one side of it and the courthouse on the other side.

"I guess the homes.." he shrugged. He had done this before. I hadn't.

We left our car at the stop light, hitting a small subdivision. We didn't make it until the third house before we hit tons of walkers. Unfortunately, they noticed.

"Shit," Daryl slammed the door they were in, but not before I got a glimpse of a gun.

He turned to leave but I grabbed his arm.

"I saw a gun," I hissed, staring at the door the walkers were beating on.

"It's not that important," he shook his head, starting down the stairs.

"Yes it is! There could be ammo and more guns!"

"Kyra, no!" he said firmly, grabbing my arm. "It's not worth it. There must be a dozen walker in there and I have three arrows."

"And I have a knife and so do you. We can do it, Daryl! We need what's inside!"

I was getting frustrated. This is what we've came all this way to get and now that we've found it, he's not going to take the risk. Where's the old Daryl that would open this door in a heart beat? Did he ever even exist?

We stared at each other for a minute, the door was beginning to splinter.

"What kind of gun was it?" he sighed, shrugging his bow off and getting it ready.

"I just got a glimpse but it was definitely a shotgun!"

I was best with a shotgun. I'm ok with hand guns, but shotguns are my strong point and I could definitely take down a small herd with one, as long as I had a tree stand that is.

Daryl sighed loudly, and I realized that maybe we didn't need that gun that badly... But it may not just be 'gun'. It could be 'guns'. And 'ammo'. We needed all this stuff extremely bad.

I stepped back, knife in hand, as Daryl grabbed the door knob. He jerked it open and out flooded walkers, tripping over each other in their surprise at being released. Daryl shot the first one that wasn't on the floor as I stomped a head in, pinning a walker back by the throat as stabbing it in between the eyes.

Three down, seven to go.

Daryl quickly reloaded, more walkers flooding out of the room. It would take one mistake, one wrong move, and I could be bitten. Or I could put him in the position to be bitten. My heart was thudding in my chest, my throat restricted as I took a swing at a walker, stabbing it in the temple and pushing it back. The lifeless, limp thing crashed into another lifeless, less limp thing, sending it to the floor. I stood over it, executing it.

Daryl had shot two more walkers while I was busy, now taking his knife and getting the others. I cornered the last walker, grabbing it by the hair and slamming it into the point of the window.

I stepped back, wiping blood splatters off my mouth disgustedly.

I turned to Daryl, taking my bandana and began the cleaning of my knife.

"Well, where's the gun?" Daryl asked, looking around the small, blue room.

I walked over to a walker, where I had seen the glimpse of the gun, and pushed it off.

There, underneath, it was a shotgun. Black and what was probably a semiautomatic. It had a scope on it's frame and looked nearly just like the one my dad carried around in his final days.

But what was even better, there were other weapons beside it.

"Holy shit," Daryl whispered beside me, wiping his mouth.

"Check to see if those have any ammo," I basically ordered, already checking the gun. It was empty, but under it there was a box of bullets, nearly full. I wanted to cry. I stood up, grabbing the empty back pack I had brought and began throwing stuff in it, bullets, hand guns, knifes. Whoever lived here knew what was up.

After we had packed the three hand guns and I had the shotgun in hand, along with the three boxes nearly full of ammunition, Daryl and I began leaving the room.

I took out the pocket watch, we still had three hours until we had to be back.

"Wait," I pressed my hand against his chest, dropping the bag and setting the gun down.

"What?" he asked, looking down at me like I was half stupid.

"Doesn't this call for celebration?" I asked, smiling up at him.

"Kyra.." he ran a hand through his hair.

"We have plenty of time and I think that what's in that bag will make this trip worth it.." I was already unbuttoning his shirt.

"Right now?" he whispered, looking around like somebody would walk into the hall and see us.

"Yes right now," I laughed, finishing unbuttoning the shirt and sliding it off his shoulders, only getting it off one before I ran I to his bow.

Finally, he cracked a smile, dropping the bow and letting me continue to take off the shirt.

In all honesty, we hadn't had sex since before the new family came. So, we were once again in a little dry spell. But, there was a room in this house completely untouched that I was planning on changing.

After, Daryl and I laid in that room with the twin mattress, curled on top of each other. He sighed, his mouth somewhere in my hair.

I leaned over and picked up the pocket watch.

"Shit!" I nearly yelled, getting out of the bed and throwing clothes around, looking for mine.

"What?" he sat up, looking confused as ever.

"We have a little less than an hour to meet up with Michonne," I hissed, fixing my bra and grabbing my pants.

"Fuck," he grabbed his clothes from the floor and stood up, getting dressed.

We ran out of the front door, toting the guns around, and ran up the street to our awaiting truck.

/

Can I begin by telling you how sorry I am? It was finals week and I've been cramming for all of my test. I'm so so sooo sorry! But, my finals are over and I can get back to writing better chapters. If you can forgive me, that'd be great.

Over 200 beautiful reviews! Thank you guys so much! It means the world to me, it really does! I love reading everyone's feedback, even it it was a simple "good chapter" and I try to reply to everyone. Again, thanks to all the lovely people out there who put up with my late chapters and my so called story. Love you all!

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	57. Chapter 57

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN  
We jumped in the car, throwing the guns in the back and before I could even close the door Daryl was speeding off, making a giant U-Turn. I was shaking from being so scared. It wasn't like me to react this way, but I swear we had more time than that.

"I thought we had three hours!" he nearly growled, one hand on the steering wheel, biting the nails off the free one nervously. How long had he done that? Was it a product of not smoking? It was gross is what it was.

"We did!" I felt like I was going to faint. It was at least an hours drive and we would be fifteen minutes late, if we made great time. Which means no walkers in the road. And that was basically impossible.

"What happened?" he threw back at me like it was my fault. Well, it kind of was. I did press us having sex. And it was some damn good sex too.

"I guess we spent a hell of a lot of time on foreplay Daryl! God, I don't know! Time got away!" I glared at him like it was his fault too. Here we go.

"Great excuse, Kyra," he said sarcastically.

I wanted to punch him in the jaw.

He didn't say anything as we got further from small town restaurants and soon everything was just tree.

We would be alright as long as they didn't leave the meet up place or try to look for us. But, goodness this was going to be embarrassing trying to explain why we were late. I was already thinking of different things I could say.

'We had to fight out way to the truck! It was covered by walkers!' That wouldn't work. If it was covered by walkers we would just try to find another car. They wouldn't believe that.

'We locked ourselves inside a house!' No. That would just be pure stupidity. Ignorance at it's finest. And me nor Daryl were considered ignorant. Or at least I hoped not.

Saying that we lost track of time seemed like the best possible solution right now.

And if they did try to look for us, maybe we could cut them off. I prayed they wouldn't try to take any short cuts or back roads. They would just end up lost or cut off by a herd and we would never find them. It would be hours later.

And then I prayed that all three of them were either driving to the meet up place in one piece, or three large pieces, or were already there. Because it would just be my terrible day if I lost one of them.

"I'm not mad," Daryl said a few minutes later, dragging my attention from the window to him. I turned in my seat.

"Huh?" It was less of a word than a gargled grunt from where I had nearly been crying.

"I'm not mad. I don't want you to think I'm mad," he wasn't looking at me. He was looking down the long, empty road.

"Alright," I shrugged, turning to look out the window again. It wasn't like I really believed that. He just felt bad for yelling at me because he treats me like a little kid.

"Kyra?" he asked and I could hear the apologetic in his voice. God, I really didn't want to have to go through this.

"Yeah?" I sighed loudly and dramatically, turning once again. Now I was just going to make him feel bad. Damn it. I hated this day. It sucked ass.

"I'm really not mad. I'm not upset. I'm glad we did what we did. We needed that." he turned to look at me for a second before his eyes went back to the road. 'We needed that' my left ass cheek.

"You've convinced me," I said blandly, propping my elbow on the window and resting my head on my hand.

"Why do you think I'm mad?"

Now he just sounded frustrated. Well, Daryl, why can't you just learn to drop a fucking subject. Everybody's all like 'Oh, Daryl, the man with few words.' And I'm just like, I can't ever get him to talk when I want him to and shut the fuck up when I don't.

"I don't." Dry. Bland. Whatever boring word you wanted to use to describe that, go ahead. Ugh.

"Whatever," he sighed, and then we went from 60 to 70. I doubt this old truck could go any faster. Which was a blessing because for whatever reason Daryl liked to speed when he was mad.

I wondered if Michonne, Raul, and Tray were driving down the road too. I wondered if it was an awkward silence and if Tray or Raul was in the passenger seat. I knew that Michonne wouldn't let either one of them drive her car. She didn't completely trust either one of them yet, wether she liked Tray or not.

I checked my old time peace. Thirty minutes before we were considered late. Maybe Michonne lost track of time too. That would be a blessing. A true miracle.

"Do you think we fight too much?" I asked Daryl, turning to look at him.b

"Hmm?" he looked over at me, shaking his head. "No. We probably don't fight enough."

"What do you mean?" I asked, watching the way he moved. He was right, we did need that little adventure. But, watching him closely always made me antsy for more. The way his arms flexed when he grabbed anything, the squint of his eyes from driving against the glare of the sun, the way his whole body moved. It was all perfect. And could put me in the mood instantly. I wouldn't mind being late if he pulled over right now and we just did it. We'd never had sex in one of his vehicles. We had in an old abandoned one once (you remember the Honda) but never his truck. I mentally shook my head. It was a time to be serious, not horny.

But, oh, how good it would feel to sit in his lap, bouncing on his, mhmm, 'member' for lack of better words. My arms wrapped around his neck, head tilted back. His pants around his ankles, hands on my hips as they helped push into him.

I mentally screamed at myself to stop. I was getting a bit flustered. I cleared my throat and thought about the subject at hand.

"You know, just that we don't fight often. And when we do it's short lived. Like now, I wouldn't even call that a fight. We were just in a rush and I slightly raised my voice and you more than slightly raised yours." he shrugged, once again biting his nails.

I nodded, staring at his hand. Maybe smoking wasn't so bad compared to this new habit.

"Do you think we're ok?" I hit him with another question. One that surprised even me. We may be good sex partners. But what about the other stuff?

He gave me a funny look.

"Hell yeah we're ok. Better than ok. Why would you ask that?"

It was my turn to shrug.

"I guess because we never really have sex anymore and we've had two fights in the past week-"

"Kyra! Other couples have way more than two fights a week. Don't worry. We're doing great in that department," his hand squeezed my thigh, resting there. "Do you have any other doubts about our relationship?" he smirked.

I shook my head no, sighing. I could say that I felt like we didn't have enough sex and maybe I could convince him to pull over. Doubting it. But I could day dream.

I loved him. A lot. But, I'm constantly feeling like a disappoint. I say things wrong or I don't do something a right way. It was crazy. I couldn't believe that I was doubting his love right now, but I was. It was just insane to think that he could love me. After all the stuff I've put him through..

"Do you love me?" I blurted out, instantly turning red. Dear God.

"What?" he slammed on the breaks, turning to look at me. Concern was written all over his face.

"Do you love me?" I repeated. Boy, if I caught myself off guard the first time I asked that damned question, the second time was even worse.

"Of course! Why wouldn't I?"

"Because how can you!?" I asked frustratingly. "After all this shit I've put you through-"

"What shit?" he asked, generally sounding curious.

"Where do I start!? I got pregnant-"

"Partly my fault."

"-I got you thrown out of the prison-"

"Partly my fault," he repeated.

"I lost your baby!"

"Nobody's fault and a tragedy that you shouldn't hold yourself accountable for!"

"I made us leave the cabin-"

"Jack the dicks fault."

"I make you go through these absurd dry spells for no real reason-"

"Yeah, that's a mystery to me, too," he smirked and I playfully punched him. Oh, Daryl if only you knew how bad I wanted to right now.

"And.. And I'm always starting these fights. Like, I don't know why I can't just shut the fuck up half the time. And it's like I bring up stuff I know will make you mad out of no where just to fight. It doesn't make sense! Why?"

Daryl looked at me for a second, brushing my short hair behind my ear.

"Kyra, I don't know why you do that stuff. But, I have my ups and downs too. I do love you. With everything I have in me. And if you don't believe me, I'll find some way to prove it. I promise. If I didn't love you, would I have searched forever for these rings," he held up mine and his left hands, our rings sticking out on our plain attire. "Would I have written my own vows? Michonne didn't even have to help!"

We both kind of laughed.

"Yeah. I just don't know how you do it sometimes," I shrugged, playing with the ring on his finger.

"Do what?"

"Deal with me."

"You're how I cope," he shrugged, tilting my chin up.

I smiled faintly.

"I love you, ok?"

I nodded. "Ok."

"Now, have to get going," he dropped my chin, slouching back in his seat.

"Are you sure?" I gave him a knowing smile.

"What'd you mean?" he eyed me. Like hell he didn't know.

"We could pull a quickie," I shrugged, unbuckling and raising an eyebrow.

"We're already late..."

"Exactly. So what's another ten minutes?"

"Alright get over here."

And then it was happening. My little fantasy. My pants were in the floorboard, his around his ankles. He may be on top in bed, but I was on top in any vehicle. My legs wrapped around his waist, making small moans and pants as I bobbed up and down. His grunts as he bucked his hips, thrusting in and out of me the best he could.

His hands were on my waist, squeezing me hard enough there would probably be bruises. His head tilted down, looking at what was happening. My head was titled back, my eyes rolled.

My hands gripped his neck and pulled his hair and I felt like my body was going to explode from pure pleasure. The entire truck squeaked, adding to the risky feel in the air.

Sooner than I wanted, we both reached climax and I got off of him, putting my pants back on as he picked his up.

And then we were down the road again. We were definitely going to be late now.

/  
I love you guys so freaking much!

This chapter is kind of short and I apologize. But I have big plans for the next sequel and I think I'm almost done with this story. I'm probably only going to go to like 70 chapters or something. We'll see.

Review!


	58. Chapter 58

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT  
We got there thirty minutes late, and my heart shattered when we pulled into the giant empty lot and Michonne's car wasn't in sight. The worst possible scenarios popped into my head.

"Do you think they went looking for us?" I asked, nearly shaking again. Damn, was I having a panic attack?

"Nah," he shook his head. "They're just running behind. If they went to look for us they would have left a note somehow."

Just running behind. Please, Lord, let that be the reason. Please.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," he nodded, throwing his arm around me. I leaned against him.

I was a nervous wreck. I was shaking like a wet chihuahua. Daryl's hand slid up and down my arm and he kissed me on the top of the head.

"Don't worry. They'll be here in no time." he gave me a small squeeze.

"If you say so," I sighed.

"Raul probably opened his fat mouth and told Michonne that she was going the wrong way or something and they're just lost," comforted me.

"Sure," I nodded.

To take a positive perspective on everything, at least now we didn't have to have an excuse...

"How are you not worried?" my voice was a low whisper, my face buried in his side.

"I am."

If my heart didn't feel like it was going to explode already, that did it. I was ready to die now. Cause of death? Heart failure.

It didn't help I was an impatient person. At all. I've never been one to wait until everyone was awake to open Christmas presents. I would stay up all night and then at 6:30 I would run through the house waking everyone else up. It went on until my last Christmas with my family. When I was fourteen and everything was normal.

To pass time, I thought about my fourteen year. That year my mom got bit. And if someone else hadn't killed her, she was still walking around lifeless. That year, I had to use my guns and knifes on walkers. Not deer or bear or bars. Things that used to be human. That year the world went to shit.

But, it also had good moments. I wasn't concerned with guys. I wasn't ever really concerned with relationships at all until I met Daryl. But, I didn't even really look at guys until fifteen or sixteen. And even then they were fictional or famous men well into their thirties. So, life was easy and simple. I went to school, I had one or two friends, and I wasn't that girl who got bullied. I was that girl who was nice but no one ever really paid attention to. It was nice. I made good grades, my family was happy, my family was alive.

I looked over at Daryl in the seat, who was staring at the little drive way leading to the lot.

We didn't talk about who we were before. Not really. At the beginning of our relationship we talked a little about our past and who molded us. But never really who we were.

I wanted it to stay that way. If Daryl was a bad person before, I didn't want to know. Because now he was a Saint in my eyes. He was a good person who cared for others and would give the clothes off his back if it meant helping you.

And for whatever reason he fell in love with me. For whatever reason, he chose me, at the wonderful age of seventeen, to fall for. Not Carol. Or even Michonne. Me. And, although I continually blamed myself for taking what he had was normal and crushing it, I was glad.

We were rebuilding. We had a new family. And we were going to add on. We would win some and lose some. But, we would get there. And we didn't need Rick, Carol, Hershel, Glenn, Maggie, or Beth for any of that. We were fine on our own.

But, what if Michonne, Raul, and Tray didn't make it back.

Then we had to rebuild, I told myself. But, damn it I don't want to. If I lose Michonne, my baby, two homes, my purity, and Beth I'll go fucking crazy. I can't deal with another loss. I can't cope with it. I'll kill myself. I really will. I'll take one of the guns and I'll end it for me.

That's when I realized I was crying.

"What's wrong?" Daryl squeezed my shoulder and I quickly wiped back hot tears.

"Where the hell are they?" It wasn't an answer. But, it basically said why. So, he should be ok.

"Just calm down. They'll be here. I promise."

He shouldn't have promised that. Because if his promise was broken, I would be just as mad at him as I was distraught. And I would blame him, even though it wasn't right nor his fault. And when I killed myself, in my suicide letter, I would blame him. And it would ruin him as much as it ruined me.

God! Why was I thinking of all of this!?

I took some deep breaths, which were a mistake as they turned into sobs.

Daryl did a sort of grunt/moan thing and pulled me into a hug. He smoothed my hair back, whispering 'shh' over and over again. I clung to his shirt, feeling ever bit of foolishness that I could probably feel. It was terrible.

Was I always like this? I felt like I was a strong, independent woman who took care of herself. And I figured after Jack, I wasn't so strong. And that then my emotions would get the best of me. But, had I always been this way? Was I living in a fools paradise? It was every bit possible.

"Hey, I hear something," he whispered, and I looked up to see him cock his head, making a funny face as he listened. I heard it too. A car. I bunched his shirt in my hands, tear stained from where I had been crying. I found out then that I had been laying in his lap, my legs laid out on the trucks seats.

A few moments later, Michonne's car came into view. And thanks to those fucking tinted windows, I couldn't see who was there and who wasn't.

I held my breath, wiping tears off my face and hoping I didn't look like I had even bawling for the past ten minutes.

Daryl got out of the truck just as the car stopped in front of it. And Michonne got out.

I let go of the breath, feeling instant relief. And even more relief when both Tray and Raul climbed out too, Raul was riding shotgun. Hmph.

I got out of the truck, adjusting my shirt.

"Sorry. We ran into a little herd on the high way and had to go back to an exit. Then it took us forever to find the highway again," Michonne sighed , leaning against the car.

"Find anything?" Daryl ignored her explanation, although I hadn't.

"Just some blankets and clothes that probably won't fit any of us. But, they'll do. You?"

"Some guns," I answered, nodding.

"Seriously?" Raul's eyes lit up.

"Yeah. Four," I walked over to the truck and grabbed the backpack and the shot gun, walking back over and handing Michonne the bag.

She opened it and looked inside.

"Wow," she nodded, making an appreciative face.

"So, you have the katana, Daryl's got his bow, I've got this shotgun," I held up my gun. Emphasis on my. "So, can we have a little council meeting?" I eyed Daryl, and then Michonne.

"When?" Daryl asked. Good question, babe.

"Tonight. Before these guns go anywhere."

"Are you saying you don't trust us?" Raul asked, crossing his arms. I glanced at Tray, who seemed to not care. He was eyeing the bag, but it was almost an empty glance. I wonder how far he made it into his training and if he knew how to handle that gun.

"Well, Raul," I began, "it's not that we don't trust you. It's that we can't. We have to be one hundred percent on the safe side. And I'm pretty sure I can trust you, but I'm not going to regret giving you a gun when you pull a stunt and kill Daryl and I end up having to kill you." I shrugged, being very blunt.

Raul looked stricken and all he did was nod.

"Seems fair," Tray voiced in from his position by Michonne. They made short eye contact before she nodded.

"I'm sorry. But it's how it goes."

Did we just have our council meeting?

"So, where to now?" Michonne asked.

"Well, I was hoping we could hit this little town before it got dark but I think we should get on home."

I nodded, silently agreeing.

"Alright. Let's load up, boys," she said simply.

But, as Daryl got back in the truck, she grabbed my arm.

"Kyra, have you been crying?" she whispered, glancing at Daryl before her eyes darted back to mine. I nodded, feeling embarrassed.

"He didn't.. Do anything. Did he?" she whispered even lower and my eyes went wide.

"God no! I was worried sick about you three!" I was shocked beyond belief.

"Hey! I was just making sure you guys didn't have a fight or anything," she held her hand up in fake surrender and smiled.

"Oh no. I thought you meant sexually!" I shook my head. "No, we're fine."

"Alright. See you back at the house."

"See you."

I set the guns and my shot gun in the back again before I got in the truck with Daryl.

"What was that?" he asked as he started the truck up.

"She just wanted to see if I was ok," I shrugged and buckled my seat belt.

I nodded and we pulled out of the lot, Michonne behind us.

We made it back to the house an hour later, setting out the blankets and putting the guns in my closet.

"Are we still having the council meeting?" Michonne asked me in the hallway, Daryl was leaned against the door way, waiting for me to come to bed. He was shirtless and in loose sweatpants and it was all I could to not push him through the door, slam it in Michonne's face, and devour him.

"I think we pretty much did that in the lot. Unless you think we need to discuss something else?" I asked, avoiding Daryl.

"No. I'm good. You?" she looked at Daryl.

He simply shook his head.

"Alright. Night, guys."

"Night, Michonne," I squeezed her shoulder before turning to Daryl.

"Night," he grunted, turning and walking through the doorway.

I followed him and shut the door lightly behind me.

"You look good," I smirked, grabbing pajama pants from my dresser.

"What'd you mean?" he looked up at me from the bed. The gas lamp was throwing weird shadows around the room, but it only made him more inviting.

"Just that you look good without a shirt," I shrugged, taking my jeans off, having to wiggle out of them. He rolled his eyes, but there was a small smile playing on his lips.

"And you look good with no pants," he waggled his eyebrows and I laughed, jumping in my pajamas.

I crawled in bed beside him, propped on my elbows. Daryl leaned over and brushed some hair back.

"Mm. Night, babe," I leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.

"Night," but he didn't pull his hand away from the side of my face.

We laid there for a minute, and then he leaned down and kissed me lightly.

"You're sweet," I whispered, eyes closed, mouth less than an inch from his. My lips still tingled from his little kiss.

"Mmhm," was is wonderful reply.

He kissed me again, slowly and sweetly.

But, then we called it a night. I snuggled up next to him, my excuse being that it was getting colder outside. And we fell asleep moments later.


	59. Chapter 59

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE  
Today was a day of rest. Everyone was tired from yesterday's running around, so we decided to take today completely off. Although I slightly disagreed with, winter was just a few weeks away, I didn't say anything because I was just tired too. I had been for weeks. I have no clue why we hadn't done this earlier. Erm, I still disagreed though..

Daryl and I spent most of the evening asleep in our room. Both of us were drained from the past few weeks.

I laid my head on his shoulder and he wrapped his big arms around me. And we would fall asleep, one of us would wake up a few hours later, and then we'd go back to sleep. And then we'd repeat it.

We probably didn't stay up for good until three or so. We went down stairs to join Tray and Michonne, who were both reading.

"Where's the other guys?" I asked, sitting down on the couch.

"They went on a walk," Tray answered without looking up from his book.

Daryl plopped down beside me, his hair sticking up in obscene places. I leaned over to fix, but he swatted my hand away.

"Let me fix it!" I sighed, already reaching up again, giving him a look much like an annoyed mother would give her five year old who won't eat his veggies.

"No!" And that was the response of a five year old who won't eat his veggies.

And that's when I tacked him. I launched us both to the ground and wrestled on top of him, reaching for his hair and failing. Michonne and Tray watched with confusion and/or amusement as Daryl and I rolled around the floor, both of his hands locked around my wrists as I tried to grab at his hair and fix it.

"Just let me fix it!" I cried as I went from being on top to being on the bottom.

"Leave it alone!" he yelled back, now on top of me. We were both laughing but I'm pretty sure Michonne and Tray were very curious as to if we were really fighting or not.

Daryl pressed both of my wrist above my hands and I struggled against his weight.

"Let. Me. Fix. It." I growled, trying wriggle my leg loose so I could knee him. Where? Not the sensitive areas I'm sure you were thinking of. I needed what was inside so I could have kids. So probably the stomach or something.

"I like it like that!" he leaned down so his face was inches from mine.

For a second we just stared at each other, and I held my breath. And he leaned down to kiss me-

But, then Michonne cleared her throat and we realized we were with other people and couldn't just do each other right in the middle of the room. Although we definitely wanted to.

Daryl sat up, and so did I.

"Can I please?" I asked, hands on hips. Michonne and Tray had gone back to reading now that we weren't wrestling anymore and that we were just normal Daryl and Kyra.

"Fine," he crossed his arms. I smiled and leaned up, having to fix a lot more than before. But, finally it was good.

"You need a haircut, hon," I sighed, standing up from the floor.

"Pfft," he rolled his eyes, standing up too.

"You're so sassy!" I shook my head as I walked from the living room to the dining room.

"Whatever. You're a drama queen," he followed behind me.

"Am not," I stepped through the swinging door into the kitchen, "and you're-" he stopped me as he swung me around, pulling me into a kiss. I was completely caught by surprise. I don't know if he thought that this was my plan, but I just wanted some soup.

This was way fucking better than soup.

He pushed me against the counter and kissed my neck. My hands were instantly in his long hair, messing it up all over again. Ugh, but it was so fucking worth it to be kissed like that. Like we could never kiss again.

He picked me up, setting me on the counter.

I felt like I couldn't breathe. God, he was the only one who could make me feel this way and it was absolutely perfect.

But, why did he choose me? Again, the question stung my brain. It had been weighing me down for the last few days. I was pretty average. I hunted, fished, and read books. I was kind of nerdy, even. So, why me?

I could understand my gravitational pull to him. Who wouldn't want this badass, macho, motorcycle riding guy who looked as good as he shot?

But, me. He could have had Carol. Someone close to his own age and who really cared about him. He maybe could have even had a shot with Michonne. So, why the seventeen year old girl who's just so average?

"What's wrong?" Daryl's husky voice pulled me from my thoughts.

"Huh?" I asked, my hands hanging from his arms.

"You're not kissing back."

Bless him.

"I was just thinking," I shrugged.

"About what?" he smirked. And I knew what he was thinking. Probably that I had a little fantasy going through my head right now. Oh, how untrue. Normally would be. But not this time, my sweet. Not this time.

"Why me?" I asked, raising my eyebrows and cocking my head. That took him by surprise. His smirk fell. Ah, I loved that smirk. Sad to see it go, really.

"What'd you mean?" he asked, his left hand on my hip, the other on the counter.

"I mean why me? Why not Carol? Or even Michonne? You could have really had your pick at just about any woman in there, give or take. But, you chose me. You think you would pick someone more like you. Someone who is kind of badass in their own way. I mean, you've killed so many walkers and at least a dozen people, so you're classified as a badass. Michonne's a fucking badass and even Carol in her own way. I've killed very few walkers and even fewer that posed any threats. And I've never had to kill anyone. So, why me?"

He stared at me for a second. And I thought maybe I had pissed him off somehow. Maybe he just wanted to make out and possibly get it on in the kitchen and I was just ruining the moment.

But if I didn't ask the question it would just eat me alive. And as much as I enjoyed fooling around with Daryl, I just needed to know.

"Maybe it's because hurt people gravitate towards hurt people," he shrugged.

"Both Michonne and Carol are hurt people," I shrugged back. It was true. Carols life was especially fucked up and I knew just enough to know Michonne had her fair share of hurt.

He sighed, his hand leaving my hip. Daryl jumped up on the small island in the middle of the kitchen and looked at me.

"I guess because I needed someone to protect. And you fit the quota. Then I just kind of.. Well, you remember the shack."

Short and sweet. That's Daryl for you.

"You needed someone to protect?" I smirked, now just playing with him.

"Mhm," he nodded. My smirk fell. Sophia.

"Was Sophia the person you protected before?"

I almost whispered it. He was very very sensitive about Sophia. He just looked at me. He didn't have to say anything. I knew the answer before the question left my lips.

"Well," I sighed loudly, not liking the tension, "at least you didn't treat Sophia like you treat me," I smiled a bit. But he didn't get the joke.

"I don't get it," he crossed his arms. And once again my smile left.

"You don't? You had sex with me." I held up with hand and showed off my little ring, "And married me."

"Oh."

Oh. Oh. Fucking oh.

I've just shut him off. Whatever button you press to make Daryl go cold I pushed it. And I didn't just push it once. Oh no. I hit it repeatedly with a sledge hammer and told it that it was a filthy bitch who sucked ass.

I stood up from my counter and walked over to his, sitting beside him. I awkwardly put my arm around his.

"I'm sorry I brought her up. Sometimes I don't filter things," I looked up at him, but he was staring down the floor. "Daryl?"

He sighed loudly, titling his head back.

"Can we make a vow never to bring her up again?" he grunted, eyes now fixated on the ceiling.

"Sure," I nodded, feeling terrible.

"Good."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

And that was that. We didn't ignore each other or anything. We didn't get into a fight. But we didn't finish our little make out session either. I ruined that moment. And now I was seriously wondering if it was worth the half answer I got.

So, I ended up having my soup and the day went by, seeing as how we didn't even get up until later, pretty quickly.

And when we were laying back down in bed, he surprised me, yet again.

"Kyra?" he asked from his side, his back facing me.

"Yeah?" I answered, staring at that back. I was laying on my back, he was on his side.

"Come on, let's go for a walk. We need to talk," he sat up and stumbled off the low bed, walking around blindly for his shoes.

I got up, slipping on my moccasins and a jacket and waited for him. Finally, he found his shoes and we were sneaking outside, like a couple of teenagers, and walking.

"Where are we going?" I whispered, following a step behind him.

He shrugged and I probably could have hit him.

"Thanks."

We walked through the high grass that was the back yard and towards the field. We didn't talk until the house wasn't visible. Then he slackened his pace and let me walk beside him.

"You know earlier when you said 'why me?' and I gave a short answer?" he asked, turning to me. A small smile made it's way to my lips but I quickly polished it off.

"Mhm," I nodded, and we kept walking.

"It's true that I wanted someone to take care of. And I kind of picked you because, well, you just lost your dad, so that made you an orphan and I figured you didn't really have any survival skills. But, I don't want you to think that I think of you that way anymore. Sure, I want to protect you. But, I now know you're capable of taking care of yourself." He looked down at me and I realized somewhere between our getting ready he grabbed his big ole knife. And for whatever reason I stared at it.

"Why did we have to come out here for you to tell me that?" I jokingly asked, not taking my eyes off the knife. I wrapped my jacket tighter around me. Why did I have such a strange fixation with that knife? It wasn't like I was scared he was going to stab me. I guess anything to not look at his face.

"Because I didn't feel like whispering and this is kind of private.." he kind of trailed off and shrugged. I looked back up at him.

"I'm glad you only open up to me."

One simple little sentence. It was so very true. He may carry his feelings on his shoulder, but he sure as hell didn't let anyone else know it. He wouldn't even tell me stuff half the time. (Maybe because he was protecting me..?) But, with me, he could speak. No one could hold in every emotion. They would explode.

I wrapped my arms around his arm and leaned against him, our hands locking together.

"So, do you get what I mean?" he asked after a moment later.

"Yeah." I kept it short. I wanted to bring up Sophia again, and nearly did. But, he didn't want to talk about her so I wouldn't make him. You would have to be multiple levels of cruel to continually bring something like that up when it hurt him so badly.

But, I again found myself wanting to pry into his history and take a look. I wanted so badly to know exactly what molded him. He kept his past so short and structured with me.

With his dad, all he said was that he beat him and wasn't a good person. He was a drunk that was always looking for the next high and when he was home, he was mean. No stories of what he would do. It took a lot out of him just to tell me that much. But I wanted to know so much more. I wanted to know why he left those scars on Daryl's back. I wanted to know if Daryl said something off, tried to fight back, or was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I wasn't going to push it though. Not tonight. He was going through a lot just to tell me why he chose me and all that bull shit. I wasn't going to press my luck. Not when he was talking without me begging.

"It's not about protecting you anymore. It's about showing you how to protect yourself. It's about loving you. I realize that I'm not going to be around forever and in all honesty if we both died of old age you'd probably outlive me by a good twenty years. But even now, I may die. I may get ambushed by a herd. And I want to protect you as much as possible, but I also want to love you as much as possible. Because... I don't know. I guess I could've went with Carol. And maybe we would have made a good pair. But, you're who I want. I don't know why. I do, though. And I have you." he shrugged again. Bless his little dysfunctional heart. He was trying so hard.

We stopped walking and just looked at each other in the minimal moon light. He was precious. In all aspects of my life, he highlighted them. I could think of a thousand different cheesy analogies: he's the yin to my yang, the newest book to my inner geek, the ammo to my gun. But really, he was just my Daryl for my Kyra. He was the love of my life and I didn't care how many other choices he had, he chose me and that's all that matters.

"I love you," I whispered, realizing my throat was tight and I felt like I was going to cry. God, I'm a pansy..

"I love you, too."

One day, Daryl Dixon, I will give you everything you've ever dreamed. A little kid, maybe two, running around the house, all the pleasures you want, and I'll be the best wife that I can be. I'll do everything I can to repay you for your bountiful love. I just wish I could do it right away..

My inner monologue was destroying the kiss Daryl had leaned in to give me. I finally reacted, wrapping my arms around his neck.

I wasn't about to do it in a field. No no. But, goodness he knew how to kiss. Where the hell did he learn how to do that?

Oh, how I really love my Daryl. And oh how he loves me.

/

So, this chapter was inspired by a certain review that just got me to thinking. He/She wasn't a member so I couldn't reply to them, but if they're still reading this message is for them: Thanks for your review! (And all the other ones) It really got me to thinking and I hope this kind of clears it up for you. Hope you're still reading and hope you liked the chapter!

And for all my others: thanks! You guys are all beautiful and I love you all.

Continue to review, my dears! Xx (BTW, I didn't update yesterday because of Christmas..)


	60. Chapter 60

CHAPTER SIXTY  
I was dreaming. That much was crystal clear. The endless low fog and the fact that I was back in the prison made it all the better. But why was I here?

And why was I so cold? My hair was long again and braided back. And when I looked down I was surprised to barely see my toes sticking out under my round stomach. I was pregnant. Had to be eight months. I looked ready to pop.

I walked through the courtyard, only to hear a loud explosion, I turned to see fire. But in my weird dream like state I couldn't see where. It was everywhere. I turned to run, but seen the pale face of Beth Greene.

"Kyra!" she cried out, reaching for me.

"Beth, what's happening?" I asked, grabbing her outstretched hand. She pulled me in a tight hug. I looked down, my stomach was gone. I was just normal now.

"We have to get to the bus!"

I remember the bus. If anything were to go wrong, we escaped via the bus.

"What's happening?" I repeated. She looked close to tears.

"There's sick people everywhere. We need his help, Kyra. We need his help."

"Who's help?" I asked, grasping both her hands and trying to calm her down. The fire burned in the back of my mind.

"His. His."

Who the hell is he?

"We need to leave!" she screamed again.

"What about the sick people? How are they sick?"

"Oh, it's terrible, Kyra! They're all dying. Daddy is trying to save them, but he's dying too. We're all dying, Kyra. The infection. It's in all of us."

"Beth," I smoothed her hair back, "I know. I know it's in all of us. Rick told us all of that. How are the people dying?"

"They're dying. They're sick." she was sweating, her doe eyes seemed even larger.

"But how? Why?" I needed some answers. Or at least some that made sense.

"They're sick. They're dying. They're dying, Kyra! Save us! We need him!"

"Who's him?" I hissed again, growing desperate.

"Oh, we need him. I need him. She needs him. They need him. Rick needs him. Daddy needs him..." she continued to ramble about who all needed him.

"Beth, focus. I need to know where the fire is coming from."

"What fire?" she was looking over my shoulder and I turned to look.

The Governor. He was behind me. My dads gun in his hand.

Gun fire. A drop. I turned to see Beth, eyes wide, laying on the ground. A red flower petal bloomed from her shirt.

"We need her. We need him." she whispered, before her eyes dimmed and her mouth went slack. A new name. Her. Who's her?

I turned to the Governor.

"You killed her! You sick bastard! You killed Beth!" I screamed.

But he began disappearing, like the fog that was continuously rolling around my feet. And Rick stood in his place, hair slicked back and sickly looking.

"Oh, Judith. Judith. Judith." he moaned, eying the ground. He had been crying.

"Where's Judith?" I asked. "What's wrong with her?"

"We need him. We need her," he sobbed.

Not this shit again.

"Who? Who, Rick?"

"God, Judith!" he screamed, searching through the fog.

And then I was running. Running through the fog and trying to get somewhere but there was a thick wall separating me from my destination.

And on the other side there were four people lined up, on their knees. And the Governor was behind them. He was executing them. Executing prisoners.

He shot the first one, and as he went down his head turned and with horror I seen it was Hershel.

I screamed, hitting the invisible wall. But nothing was working.

"Hershel! Hershel!" I kept screaming. But no one but the Governor could hear me.

The second shot. All of the people looked exactly the same until they turned to look at me. And then they were people I knew and once loved. Still loved? The second one turned. Oh god. Maggie.

I screamed again, smacking the wall but it would just bounce back, doing no harm. God, I needed to save those people. This was torture. I couldn't do anything but watch these people be viscously murdered.

He pointed the gun at the third. No no no.

"Run! God, please! Run!" I screamed again and again.

A shot rang out and the body fell, turning to me. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Carol.

"Fuck!" I screamed, continuing like a maniac. Carol wasn't exactly my favorite person and there were times I wanted to kill her myself. But she had such a sadness to her that I couldn't find it in myself to hate her. And now she was dead. Was she?

And then the last person. The Governor turned and looked at me, a sick smile curled on his lips. He pointed the gun at the back of number fours head, and the person turned to look. I choked on a sob. Dad.

"Daddy!" I screamed, tears brimming over my eyes. "Dad! Run, damn it!" He just stared at me, his sad eyes, always sad since mom died, stared back at me. God no. Please no. I can't relive this. I can't.

"I love you," he whispered, and then bowed his head.

"No!" I screamed, trying to push through the wall, banging with all my might against the fog.

I turned to the Governor.

"Please! Please don't! Please!" I begged, and then something miraculous happened. The wall gave and I was running towards Dad.

I was almost there. And then the shot rang out.

"No!" I screamed as my fathers limp body fell.

I dove for Governor, but he once again turned into fog.

I kneeled against my dad and held his dead body close to my chest, sobbing continuously.

"No.. No.. Please, Daddy. I need you. I really fucking need you."

I woke up dripping with sweat to Daryl shaking me.

"Kyra!" he whispered-yelled hoarsely.

"What..?" I was so confused as to what was real or not. I searched the room for my dad only to be strongly disappointed.

"Are you ok?" he sighed, wiping away the tears that I had probably been crying for awhile.

"No.. I think the prisons in trouble.." I bit my lip, still shaking from the horrifying scene. Beth. Hershel. Carol. Maggie... Dad..

"It was just a dream.." he brushed my hair back and cradled my head to his chest, shushing me like a child.

"But it felt so real.." I was going to cry again if I didn't settle down.

"What happened?" he asked, smoothing his hand over my hair. It soothed me, so I didn't nag him for treating me like I was nine and had a nightmare.

"I'm was at the prison and there was a fire. And I was pregnant, I think. And then Beth told me everybody was sick and that I needed to leave. Then I wasn't pregnant. And I asked who was sick and she just kept telling me they needed him-"

"Who's him?"

"That's what I kept asking. She wouldn't tell me. Then the Governor shot her," Daryl went rigid beside me, but I continued, "and I tried to hit him but he vanished, but then Rick took his place. And he was looking for Judith-"

"Little ass kicker," Daryl whispered fondly.

"Yeah, and he was looking for her and I asked what's wrong and he said he needed him and he needed her. I kept asking who him and her were but he wouldn't answer. Then he vanished."

"Weird," Daryl kissed the top of my head.

"I'm not finished. So, he vanished and I kept running and I ran into the wall thing. And the Governor was on the other side and he was executing people. First.. Hershel. Then, Maggie. Then, Carol. And then.." I started crying again.

"Shh, Kyra. It was just a dream.."

"No. It wasn't. Then, he shot Dad!" I sobbed, reliving everything.

"Oh.." he held me tighter as I cried, feeling every bit of a sissy.

"God, Daryl. He shot my dad and I don't even know how he did it. I don't know how my dad died.."

"It'll be ok. I promise."

It'll be ok. It'll be ok.

But I couldn't help but feel like something was wrong at the prison. And as pissed off as I was at Beth for trying to screw Daryl, I loved her. And I needed to know she was safe. But how?

And maybe I didn't get to see the horrifying scene that was my dads murder, but that dream seemed to summon it up. It was so life like, it felt so real.

"Daryl, he was scared. And he looked at me and he said he loved me," I choked, wishing he had a shirt on so I could twist it. Instead I simply gripped his shoulder. "God, Daryl. He was so helpless. It was just awful.."

"Kyra," he pulled up my chin, so my puffy, red, tear streaked face was mere inches from his, "it was a dream. I promise. It was a nightmare."

"But, Daryl! He fucking killed my dad! That dream was probably exactly what happened! He executed my dad! With his own gun!" I screamed, trying to push away from him like a little kid. But Daryl wasn't having it. His arm was locked firmly around my back and tight on my chin.

"That's not how it happened. I swear. Your dad probably didn't even know what hit him. He didn't suffer. Please, calm down."

Calm down? Oh my god, I'm in hysterics. I was. I was hiccuping and screaming and crying. Over a dream.

"But.."

Daryl pushed me against him again.

"Just go to sleep, ok? We can talk about it tomorrow."

Like I was actually going to be able to go to sleep after such a dream. I would have rather the Governor shoot me or chase me down than me have to witness all my loved ones being killed off.

And I needed to get back to the prison.


	61. Chapter 61

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

Daryl didn't like my plan. Not in the least. He had completely shut it down at first, saying there was no way in hell. But, after awhile he came through.

Came through was really a bad choice of words. It was more like we fought about it for an hour until he yelled, "Fine! I don't give a damn what the fuck you do!" Then I had cried, he had felt bad, asked me to repeat the dream, even though he'd heard it several times already, and then reluctantly agreed to going with me.

Now it was just getting on hands and knees and begging Michonne. Who's vote could really go any way. That I scared me more than anything in the world because I knew if Daryl and I really fought we'd get over it, but if we all got into it, she would probably leave. And take Tray and his family with her. Then, Daryl and I would be on our own and then we'd have no choice but to what was needed.

So, I sat on a little chair Michonne stole from the kitchen that she used for her 'reading chair', Daryl behind me, hand on my shoulder, and she sat on her bed, looking at me. I knew Daryl was only here out of guilt for making me cry, but it was ok because I really really needed him.

It was safe to say I felt a little ridiculous. More than a little, really. After all, it was just a dream. But it felt so real. It didn't matter how many times Daryl told me I was being ridiculous, I still felt like I needed to help.

"So, what is this about?" Michonne asked, arms crossed over her chest, sitting Indian style, her katana behind her.

I sighed and looked up at Daryl before looking back at her. Her heart beat rapidly in my chest.

"I think there's something wrong at the prison," I said quickly. Her eyes flashed up to Daryl, too. But they quickly settled back on my face. She knew, by that look on her face I could tell, Daryl hadn't originally liked where this was going.

"Why?"

This is the part I really didn't want to explain. At all. She would probably tell me I was absurd or stupid.

"I had a dream last night-"

"So, you're having visions now?" there wasn't even a hint of a smile. It was obvious she was mocking me, but was she doing it jokingly or did she really think I'm stupid?

"No, I didn't say that. Just, please listen?" I gave her a look and she stared back for a second before nodding back, lips pursed.

"Fine."

"Thank you," I brushed my hair back, which was now just below my jaw line, "Now, I had a dream and the Governor was there," she flinched just like Daryl did. She had more beef with him than Daryl. But I had the most. "He took over the prison and killed multiple people."

I decided to leave out who all he killed. I didn't have it in me to repeat the terrible dream fully. And it didn't seem important that I was pregnant, either. I was just going to highlight it.

"So, he took over the prison and killed a bunch of people?" she asked, looking unsure.

"Yeah."

Lord this was lame. She wouldn't go for what follows. Not now that she thought I was crazy. Why did I even tell Daryl about this? Why would I even go to Michonne with this?

"It was just a dream," she shrugged. So, maybe she didn't think I was crazy. Maybe she just thought I was scared. Which may be worse because I didn't want her to think I was simply a scared child. I had more depth than that, especially now.

"But it felt so real, Michonne." I was basically begging for her to listen. I couldn't stand begging, and for someone who couldn't stand begging I sure was doing a lot of it. An awful awful lot. "And everyone I talked to kept saying that they needed him and her. I don't know who him and her are, but I have a pretty great guess."

I hadn't told Daryl that part. His hand tightened on my shoulder. Oops.

"So, what do you want us to do about it?" she asked, not even bothering to question me about the him and her. I guess she put two and two together.

"Well, it's kind of crazy, really.. But, I want to try and help. I know something is going to happen. And I want to be able to fight back. I need to do this." I nodded firmly.

She stared at me, her face expressionless. She wasn't going to buy into it.

Then again, she didn't really have anything against the people back at the prison. She just loved Daryl enough to follow him. I say love, but I don't know. I guess care is a better word. She cared for Daryl. And I guess she cared for me. We were a family.

She did, however, hate the Governor. As much as I hated him. And I prayed she couldn't pass up the chance to take him out.

"I don't know.. They won't even take us back. We left them. They probably feel like they can't trust us-"

"Michonne. Think of Rick and Judith. Think of Carl. They need our help. I don't know when, or even if it'll happen. But, I want us to go back and help these people."

"I thought you hated them?"

"I do. But, I hate the Governor more. And I love Beth. I can't let her die because you guys weren't there to protect her." Another tight squeeze at me loving Beth.

"So, you just feel like at any moment the Governor is going to show up and kill everyone? Mayberry is dead. He doesn't have his army anymore, Kyra."

"But he could have regrouped! We found another group!" I put my face in my hands and Daryl sighed behind me, moving his hand from my shoulder, to the other one, awkwardly hugging me.

"Well, if you feel so strongly about it I don't mind. If Daryl doesn't." she looked up at Daryl, who nodded. "What are we gonna do about the others? And Bonnet?"

"Take them with us. Explain the situation, minus the dream part, and say we ran across the family and that they're trust worthy. And Bonnet follows us no matter what," I gave Daryl a quick look. He had grown way too fond of that dog, and she of him.

"Do we just show up?" Daryl finally chimed in.

"Yeah. We just show up at the fence. Your six months is way past due anyway. They can't really refuse you. Plus, I'm eighteen now."

"They can refuse us, Kyra. Or worse, the Governor could somehow really already be there. And if he is there, what makes you think we can stop anything?" Michonne had a point.

"I just have to know she's ok," I said stubbornly. My reasons weren't even clear to me. After all, it was just a dream.

But sometimes dreams are sent to you from the man above on purpose.

"Fine. Fine. But I really think you should give this a few days to let sink in. We're gonna be losing this house if we leave. We'll be stuck back at the prison where people hate you, Kyra," Michonne warned me, "And who knows if Rick will even let us stay, let alone the entire new family. So think about this. Ok?"

"So, is that a yes?" I asked, eyebrows raised. This was all making me sweat. I didn't want to go back to the prison as much as they didn't. But I needed to know. They took me in when I lost my everything. I needed to at least try.

"That's a 'I'm giving you time to really think about it. In a few days come back to me and ask again. If you feel strongly about it still, that is."

I nodded and looked up and Daryl who gave a short, stiff nod, then jerked his chin towards the door.

I followed him, giving a nod at Michonne as I walked out of the door. We went back to our room and I sat down in the floor, hands on knees.

"Is this really happening? Is this actually going to happen?" I asked, looking up at him as he dug around his underwear drawer.

"Hm?" he mumbled, not even bothering to look at me as he rummaged through the drawer.

"Whatcha looking for?" I asked, standing up slowly.

"I hid a pack in her for emergencies a few weeks ago," he said it nonchalantly. Like he hadn't promised not to smoke.

But I was so stressed I didn't even care. And as he pulled the pack out and offered me one, I took it. Holding it in my mouth as he lit it for me.

We both to a quick drag and Daryl leaned against the wall.

"I've missed this so badly," he sighed.

"I just wish it was pot," I shrugged, leaning against the wall beside him. He half laughed and looked down at me.

"I could never imagine you smoking pot," he shook his head.

"I would totally smoke it right now. This shits stressful," I smiled back half way, realizing how awful the cigarette tasted.

He sighed, closing his eyes half way as he let a puff of smoke curl up and disappear before it reached the ceiling.

"Kyra, why do you still love Beth?"

I took a deep breath and looked at him, the cigarette between my middle and index finger. He looked back, taking another drag.

"Because, she was the only one who talked to me at the prison." I shrugged. I couldn't explain why I loved her still. But, I wasn't even one hundred percent sure what she did to Daryl that made him want to back off.

"You know what she did, though," he sounded frustrated.

"She didn't even know we were together, Daryl. I'm sure if she did, she would have backed off. But, she didn't," I took up for her, although thinking of someone else kissing Daryl set off an alarm and flashes of red through my mind.

"I don't trust her," he said it with the sound of ending the conversation. So, I didn't say anything else.

I took another drag of my cigarette and with every time I inhaled it, it got nastier and nastier.

"So, you're not mad I'm smoking again?" he asked hesitantly. I looked at the ground and then at my hand, took a drag, and blew the smoke out before answering him.

"Yeah. But, there's nothing I can do," I shrugged, crushing my cigarette on our dresser before walking in the closet and grabbing my gun and a box of bullets from the closet.

He didn't say anything as I walked past him and out the room, putting the cigarette to his lips once again before I left him in our little room.

I needed something to calm me down. Therefore I needed to shoot my new gun. I hadn't shot it yet, so I could use the excuse that I needs to make sure the scope was good.

God I hated change.


	62. Chapter 62

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO  
I set up my paper targets roughly a hundred, fifty, and 25 yards away, taped to sticks. Daryl had made me a makeshift table to prop my gun up on, and as I bundled up in my coat, I put on the makeshift silencer and loaded my gun. I bent down, putting the butt of the gun firmly against my shoulder. I leaned in to scope in.

I took a second to look at the furthest target, aiming at the middle circle I had drawn on it. I took a deep breath and gently squeezed the trigger, firing the gun. I jumped back, not being used to the kick.

"Fuck," I sighed, laying the gun down and massaging my shoulder. I wasn't expecting that. It wasn't that it hurt, it's that I haven't shot in so long I forgot how hard these things kicked.

I picked the gun back up and unloaded it, my mind reeling. I put the empty shell in my coat pocket and put another bullet it in.

What if this was a bad idea?

I took a deep, shaky breath as I looked at the target through my scope, untouched by my last shot. I squeezed the trigger and didn't flinch this time when it kicked. I watched through the scope as my bullet tore through the paper target, too fast for me to really register anything until it had already happened.

Good things had happened at the prison. Beth.

But, Beth went behind my back and hit on Daryl. I'm still undecided if she knew or not. And if she had helped Carol. Only one person knew I was pregnant at the time, Beth. And somehow Carol had ruined our prison life around that time. If Beth was in on that, I never wanted to see her again.

I jerked the small silver handle back, up, down again, and back up, releasing the trapped, hollow shell.

Judith was good. But, Judith was just a baby. I had three marvelous young kids playing inside a house not too far behind me. And Daryl and I would have kids soon.

But, Judith was Daryl's little ass kicker. He was attached to that little girl, and I'm sure he very often missed her.

I grabbed another bullet, bronze and shining in the oncoming winter air. I hated the cold.

It was sheltered from walkers. Sure, we had to have constant patrols. But, I felt safe there. From walkers at least.

I put the bullet inside the gun, jerking the little handle up, closing the bullet inside the gun.

There were a lot of people. So, a small army, really. We could all find and defeat the governor.

But, was any of it really worth it?

I once again went through the motions of shooting, following through, and hitting where I wanted to hit.

I sighed loudly, staring at the target without the scope for a second.

There was a lot of bad stuff at the prison. So much, that I'm not sure where to start. I guess I could kind of go in chronological order.

I looked back down at my gun, hating that it looked so much like my dads in the first place, yet loving it because of it.

Carol was a big one. It wasn't that I hated her, not at all. It started off with me being slightly jealous. Daryl never had the guts to tell her he wasn't interested, so she was all over him, all the time. Asking him to fool around or sneak off. Hugging him made me really mad. Because I loved our hugs and I didn't want anyone else getting in the way of that.

I loaded the gun for the fourth time.

And then she found out about us and turned us in, but I won't go there. Not yet. Chronological order.

Then, there was there was having to keep secrets from people I then cared about and having to constantly sneak around. Here, I could be free to kiss Daryl's cheek or hold his hand. Even now, now that everybody knows, at the prison I wouldn't be able to and not feel uncomfortable.

Then, probably this biggest one, I got pregnant. Not only did I get pregnant, but I also got caught before I had time to tell Daryl I was pregnant. So, I had to tell him and the Prison Council at once.

Scratch that, this one's the biggest one: Daryl being sent away for six fucking months because he chose to be with me instead of Carol.

I shot the gun, not even aiming. Part of my anger fizzled away and having the power explode on my shoulder, but I was still pretty pissed off.

Then, I lost the baby...

I didn't know if I could go back to the prison. Or at least go back and pretend everything was ok.

And I wasn't even so sure how I felt about Beth. The more I thought of her hands pushing on Daryl's chest, her on her tiptoes as she reached for a kiss, the more pissed off I got.

Daryl was mine and only mine and they betrayed him.

Maybe I should have waited a few hours to ask Michonne to go back there. But, at least she gave me some time to think about it. Because I was still undecided.

On one hand, we had the terrible prison with the terrible people that we probably wouldn't be able to escape very easily. Also, if the Governor were to attack, when? How long would we have to wait at the dreadful place?

On the other hand, I could have a shot at taking vengeance on the Governor. It's something I've dreamed of for quite sometime now. He's someone I used to trust with my life, with my fathers life. And he disobeyed it.

I looked at the gun, pretty sure I was done shooting for the day. I did this to think, and it had to be past an hour.

I needed to talk to Daryl again. I shouldn't have stormed off from him like that. I wasn't even really completely sure how he felt about everything. I needed to take his thoughts into consideration.

I didn't even have my thoughts together...

Maybe I could talk to Morgan. She was some kind of therapist. Right?

I sighed and grabbed my gun and closed the box of ammo. I needed a nap. But, sleep needed to wait.


	63. Chapter 63

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE  
It was hard for me to confess that I was wrong. Especially when I wasn't even sure if I was in the wrong or not. So, after I found Morgan and explained that I needed her help (I had walked up to her and bluntly asked what kind of therapist she was. She had laughed and said she was a psychiatrist and that Raul didn't like introducing her as that because he says they're basically the same thing, but people get the wrong idea about psychiatrist. "What idea?" I had asked, an eye brow raised. "No clue," Morgan had shook her head.) she willingly obliged and we sat on the back porch, a glass of lukewarm water in my hand.

"So, what seems to be the problem?" Morgan asked, acting as if we were two friends chatting about relationship problems, like I found out my husband had a porn addiction or was sneaking off to a strip club. She made it seem less formal and more associative.

"I think I'm asking too much of my family," I rarely referred to the two as Daryl and Michonne. They were simply my family.

"What'd you mean? What's happening?"

I didn't want to rush and tell Morgan about me wanting to go back to the prison. They didn't know about the prison to begin with.

"It's just, all three of us were hurt and I feel like I'm digging my claws into the wound and making it worse. And I'm not trying to, really. I just feel like something needs to be done, but I also feel like I'm asking too much of them."

Morgan nodded, looking out over the giant fields we called a lawn. I wondered what she was thinking.

"Let's take a step back, if that's ok?"

"Sure," I nodded, thinking she was the professional.

"Ok," Morgan didn't do that typical lacing the fingers over her lap thing. She looked like she normally did, legs crossed, head resting on her arm, elbow propped up. An almost bored, yet at the same time I-really-do-care expression on her face. "I need to get a good feel of the three of your guys' relationship. Can you tell me how the three of you met?"

"Sure.." I nodded, sitting Indian style. I took a deep breath, "Daryl and Michonne saved me. At first, I don't trust Michonne. But, I do now. And I want her to trust me. It's just-"

"Ok, slow it down just a bit, Kyra. We're just talking about how you guys met, remember?"

"Right, sorry."

I debated on telling Morgan the truth or not. Did I want her to know all the little secrets of my private life? Some private life that was.

I decided to go head on, thinking the worst that can happen is she thinks less of me or Daryl.

"Well, I used to live in a town called Mayberry. It was run by a man named the Governor. That's what he called himself, anyway. No one knew his real name. He took in survivors of this mess and kind of sheltered us. By then, it was just my dad and me. We lived there for awhile when Michonne and Andrea showed up. I didn't know either one personally, just from a distance. But, Merle didn't like one of them. That was one of the Governors companions," I added, not wanting her to be confused. She simply nodded. "Not too long after that, I kind of met Daryl. Met is an overstatement, really. Merle got in trouble with the Governor, and see, we'd have these sort of caged fights, for entertainment, and Merle was in it this particular night. That wasn't very new. Except Daryl was new. I wasn't paying close enough attention, because my dad didn't really like me going to the fights so I would just to make him mad. But, I found out Daryl and Merle were brothers. And, for Merle, it was either kill Daryl or be killed. So, Daryl and Merle made a big scheme and ran away. I didn't see Daryl again until..."

I thought of the day he came back again. And he wasn't even the one to really rescue me, as bad as I wanted it to be so. It was Rick.

"Until, what?" Morgan politely urged me.

"Until, the day my dad was late. They were suppose to be back hours ago, but he wasn't. It was very unlike him. His name was Paul," I smiled slightly, "But, I was stressed in our apartment, when all hell broke loose outside. And I came out there and everyone is packing and some people are crying. And I see him. I see Daryl. And I think, is that the guy from the fight? And he runs across the courtyard, he had his bow of course, and just disappears. I was like 'that was weird,' but didn't really think anything of it. Then, I saw Rick. And I had never seen Rick before. And he rushed up to me and all he said was 'Why aren't you packing?' And I go 'For what?' And he just said 'We need to get out of here, now.'

"That's when I knew," I nodded. "That's when I knew that Dad wasn't coming back. And I wordlessly went upstairs and packed the two outfits I had and left with them. I found out later the Governor shot and killed my dad..." I trailed off, sniffing. I hated talking about him. I don't think I'll ever be able to talk about him.

"I'm sorry," Morgan leaned over and squeezed my hand. I smiled lightly.

"It's ok. It was nearly two years ago... Anyway, I seen Michonne was there. And we began talking, not a lot. Just kind of in passing. And so I didn't see her as a threat anymore. Then, word got around to Daryl that I was a hunter and he took interest in that. He became my mentor, sort of. Rick suggested it, kind of." I huffed. A cruel inside joke.

"So, that's how you guys met?" she nodded, fixing her glasses.

"Sure is," I nodded. I had nearly forgotten why I had even come to her I was so submerged in the past.

"Alright. So, you said the three of you were hurt? Was this separately or by the same person?"

Now that I thought about it, we were all hurt by Rick and the people back at the prison. But, we were also hurt by the Governor. He killed Andrea, Michonne's best friend, he killed my dad, and he eventually killed Merle, Daryl's brother.

"By the same people..." I said absentmindedly. I felt terrible. I hadn't even thought of Merle. Sure he was an ignorant ass who I liked at like he was nothing but a redneck. But, Daryl loved him. I didn't even think about Daryl having lost Merle to the Governor. I just figured I had the biggest loss from him. But all three of us did.

"Was that 'the Governor'?"

The words sounded strange coming from her mouth and all I could do was nod 'yes'. My throat felt tight. I needed to talk to Daryl and tell him how sorry I was for my ignorance in forgetting Merle.

"Is that the wound you're digging in?"

"Yeah. I think I know where he's going to be. And I want to go there and get my final say in," it even sounded ridiculous to me.

"You want to kill him?"

And without skipping a beat I answered: "Yes."

What was she going to do? Tell the police on me?

"And you feel like you're asking too much of them. Why?"

I sighed. This wasn't the part I wanted to explain. This is the part where she would look at me like a whore. She was the first person, besides my family, who hadn't instantly assumed I was.

But, I needed to come clean if I she was going to help me.

"I told you about Rick and him saving me. I don't know if I told you or not, but Daryl was with Rick. They had this big group at an abandoned prison. That was my home from then on. I got my own room, I met a new friend, I had three meals a day, and I was protected. If we find the Governor, we'll have to go back there."

Just thinking about it made me nauseous.

"What's so bad about that? It seems like a good place."

"But it's not. Obviously Daryl and I weren't together before I went to the prison. There was a woman there named Carol. She liked Daryl. And Daryl liked her, but not like that. He went through a lot to make her happy because he tried to rescue her daughter and she got infected. He blamed himself. It was really bad and he just tried to make her happy after that.

"Well, when Daryl and I realized we had.. Feelings, I guess, for each other, we didn't want to hurt her. So, we kind of kept it private and didn't tell anyone.

"Then," I sighed loudly, "I got pregnant."

She was really going to think I was a whore now.

"So, you had to come clean and tell everyone?" Morgan suggested.

I kind of laughed, a cruel, dry laugh.

"No. I made the mistake of telling Beth, that friend I told you I made. I'm not certain, but I'm pretty sure she's the reason we got caught. Carol found out about me and Daryl and told Rick. I hadn't even gotten the chance to tell Daryl I was pregnant yet and we were getting in trouble by the Council. They told us we either had to call it off and stop seeing each other, or leave the prison. I obviously couldn't do either. I wouldn't last very long pregnant, now would I?"

"No, of course not."

"But, I couldn't argue with Rick without coming clean. So, I had to. Daryl had to learn I was pregnant in front of a crowd of people who basically hated us." I paused, anger coursing through my body.

"Why were they so upset you two were together?"

Ah. Now, if she didn't think I was a whore from getting pregnant out of 'wedlock', she would now. Or think Daryl was a terrible pervert.

"Because I was underaged."

She paused. I'm sure she was thinking about how she needed to contact some authority figure before she remembered the no longer actually had authority.

"I see. And they didn't like that?"

"That's an understatement, Morgan. They hated it. And because I was pregnant, they said it wasn't morally right to send me away. But, Daryl wasn't. Daryl was as healthy as a horse."

I nearly choked.

"They sent Daryl away?"

"Not at first, no. They put him on this trial and kind of explained what happened to everyone at the prison. They were going to send him away for good. But, one man, Hershel, suggested that was too much. He said six months seemed fair. So, they did. Everyone but me, Beth, Carol, and two other women."

"Even Michonne?"

"Even Michonne," I confirmed. "But, she had a motive. She helped me when he was away, sneaking out and getting me stuff, making sure he was safe for me. That's how she became part of my family."

"So, did he come back after the six months?"

"No. I lost my baby before the second month even ended. I couldn't let him go the six months and not know his baby died-"

"Why not get Michonne tell him?"

"I needed to tell him. I didn't want her to. I needed to be there when he found out so I could comfort him."

"I see. Go on."

"So, Michonne and I left in the middle of the night. We met Daryl and here we are."

I of course left out Jack the creeper and the cabin. They weren't even relatively close to the problem.

"So, you want to go back to this prison so you can fight the Governor. Have you asked Daryl and Michonne about it?"

"Yes. And Daryl and I fought about it and we ended up screaming until I cried and then he reluctantly agreed. I don't want him to have to do that, Morgan. But, I need to kill the Governor. I need him to die."

"Alright. And you feel like you're putting too much pressure on Daryl and Michonne?"

"Yes. Specifically Daryl. He went through a really hard time after Rick made him leave. They were best friends and it really hurt him. He came from a bad past and he's still coping with it," I tried to explain, but I felt like it wasn't good enough.

"Well, did you come looking for a solution or just to vent?"

Good question.

"Solution? I think. Maybe both."

She nodded and once again pushed up her glasses.

"I think that you really need to talk to Daryl about this. See how he really feels. It may tear you're relationship apart, or it may make you two stronger. Depending all on how he really feels. If he feels like he's doing it against his will and you're dragging him around, it will hurt the bond. If he feels like he's protecting you and making sure you can sleep better at night knowing the Governor is dead, it would probably add strength to the bond."

I nodded. Everything seemed less difficult and more difficult at the same time.

"Thanks Morgan," I smiled, standing up and sitting my water down. I never did take the first sip.

She smiled fondly, "Anytime, Kyra. I was glad to help."

I walked into the house, going straight for the stairs. Before seeing Morgan, Michonne had told me him and Raul went on a fence check. So, they should be back anytime.

I sat on the bed, hands laced on the back of my head as I leaned against the wall, thinking of how I was going to start off my conversation with him.

"Daryl, can we talk about this..?" Nah.

"Daryl, you know I love you. So, sit down and-"  
No. No.

"Hey, I didn't know you went somewhere. Can we talk?"  
That was too forward.

"Uggggh!" I sighed loudly, just as Daryl came through the door. He gave me a funny look.

"Hey to you, too," he half smiled.

I smiled sheepishly and laughed.

"God, this all so stressful," I shook my head.

"What? The thing about the prison?" he asked as he sat on the floor, taking out his bandana and wiping off each of his three arrows.

"Yeah, can we talk about it?" I asked, mentally high giving God for setting it directly in my lap.

"No."

Well, that was surprising. I stared at him with with confusion.

"No, not like no we're not aloud to talk about it! No as in not tonight. We've already had too much stress. Let's talk tomorrow, ok?"

"Ok... How was patrol?" I changed the subject.

"Killed four walkers.." He sighed loudly. "We used to never find any."

That night, as we were laying in bed, I stared at the wall, close to tears. I didn't want to have to make him or Michonne do anything they weren't comfortable with. And I was on a set time of next week.

Daryl shifted around beside me, and I prayed he was having a better sleep than me. But, when his arm made it's sleepy way around my waist, I knew he wasn't.

My breathing hitched and I waited for signs that maybe he was, after all, asleep: his snoring, the lack in his muscles, anything.

But he answered with kissing my neck. I squeezed my eyes shut, pushing back tears, and bit my lip as a few came anyway.

"What was that for?" I whispered, turning slightly. His chin pressed against my shoulder.

"Whatever decision you make, I'll follow."

That's all he said. Just one little sentence.

I shifted around so my face was buried in his chest, his arms tight around me.

I couldn't do this anymore.

/

So, I guess some people don't like the prison idea.. But have no fear, merry reviewers! ;)


	64. Chapter 64

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR  
Daryl and Michonne looked ready to fight as we walked the perimeter of the mended fence. I looked ready to go to pre-K. I was already kind of short, and with my even shorter, kiddish hair cut and the giant jacket swallowing me up, I looked years younger than I normally do. With my long hair and summer attire, I could look years past my age. But not now. Winter was coming in pretty strong and we hadn't done anything because of our debates about the prison. Daryl had told me he would stay by my side no matter what, but I didn't want to force him to do anything he was uncomfortable with. Not in the least.

"Are we gonna talk about this or not?" Michonne asked firmly, her katana positioned on her back. We hadn't seen any walkers for the past mile.

"I have a, for lack of better words, proposition to make.." I felt too formal for how babyish I looked. But it was too cold for me to take the damn jacket off. It was really only two sizes too big, but still.

"Let's hear it then," Daryl scanned the fence line, his bow swung over his shoulder, one hand ready to pull it off. He looked good in his denim bikers jacket. He looked good in just about anything.

I took a deep breath, hoping it would give me strength. It didn't. If anything, it made it worse.

"I want to go back to the prison. I need to see the Governor die. But, I don't want to drag you guys into something you don't want to do."

It was a start.

"So?" Michonne asked.

"So, I go alone-"

"No," Daryl's attention snapped from the tree line to my face, eyes angry for even suggesting it.

"Hear me out. Please."

He didn't answer, just stopped walking and stared at me, eyes squinted. Now none of us were walking.

"Just, listen to my idea, ok? I make up some shit about you guys dying or something. Or abandoning me. Something that would make them take me back in. And I fall back into the norm, help them do chores and such. And when the Governor comes, someone will kill him, and I'll be content and sneak off."

"That's it?" Michonne asked, giving me a look that made me want to be even smaller.

"Yeah, I just need to see him die."

"No you don't," Daryl chimed in, sounding pissed off.

"Daryl-"

"You don't just want to see him die, Kyra. You want to kill him yourself. Do you really think you can do that? Really?"

Great.

"Daryl-" I tried again, but he interrupted me.

"You can barely kill walkers! You've never had to kill anyone! What makes you think you can just up and kill the Governor? Alone!"

"I didn't-"

"No! I'm sick of this prison thing and I told you where you go, I go. And it wasn't good enough for you!"

"Daryl!" I screamed. We weren't about to fight.

"You're not going alone and you're not going to see the Governor die unless all three of us go!"

"Daryl," I was surprised it wasn't me, but Michonne who spoke up, "if she feels like she needs to do this.." she trailed off.

"Michonne, she's not going out there with those people without us! She has this stupid fantasy where she kills the Governor, but it's not going to happen. She's eighteen and never killed anyone. How can she kill the man she hates and just be fine? It'll scar her!"

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here," I butted in half-heartedly. They didn't pay attention.

"She never said she wanted to kill him! Just that she wanted him to die! She wanted to see it. He killed her father!"

"And he killed my brother!"

There was a stunned silence after he damn near screamed the words. My heart twisted into knots.

"Daryl," I turned to him, but he ignored me.

"Do you people not think that I want to kill him as much as you two? I want to rip his throat out and watch as walkers tear him apart. I want to see the light of life dim from his eyes as he fades into hell!" his voice was low, which was the scary part. "I want to end everything for him, but I want it to be nice and slow and painful. And when he does die, I want to be the one who executes him in walker form. I don't want him alive anymore than you two do. So, I'm sick of hearing that her father died at his hands. I felt that kind of loss too. Don't use that as an excuse for no self control!"

I stared at him. But this time it wasn't out of pity or remorse, it was because he had pissed me off.

"What give you the right to say that to me?" I screamed, my eyes stinging from the cold wind and pricks of tears that I absolutely refused to let come out. "No! What gives you the right to say that about me? I understand that you're not comfortable with this. I get that! But, it's my choice! And I have to do this! I'm sorry you don't understand that I can forgive Beth enough-!"

"Don't! Don't say this about saving Beth! Because we know you don't give a damn about her! This is about the Governor and him only!"

"Maybe it is!" I screamed, hurting my throat. And I'm sure it probably attracted some walkers. "Maybe it is because of him! So what?"

"You're not going to risk your life for something that won't happen!"

"You want to do this just as badly as I do!"

Another angry silence. It only lasted a second before Daryl closed the distance between us, his face tilted down so it was inches from mine, the hard, angry breath from his nostrils blowing strands of my hair away.

"Kyra, shut up."

And this is where I said something incredibly foolish and childish.

"Make me."

I tilted my chin up, putting on a fake brave face as we stared each other down.

"Guys, that's enough-" Michonne began, but Daryl shoved his hand out, silencing her.

"Yes, I want to do this. Yes, I want to go kill the Governor. But I have enough common sense not to!"

"So, now I'm stupid! Wonderful!"

"Seriously, you two!" Michonne tried to separate us, but I was fixing to go for the throat.

"I didn't say you were stupid! You need to grow up!"

"I need to kill him, Daryl!" Another scream from the top of my legs. I was red in the face and panting from screaming so much.

"No you don't. I'm serious, Kyra."

"Give me one good reason!"

"You'll be helping them!"

My face melted away from anger into confusion.

"Daryl," I whispered as he stepped back, "I thought you were ok with that?"

Michonne looked between us two, sensing a moment, she remained quiet.

"I'm not. How could you be?"

I glanced at Michonne.

"Daryl, you told me it was ok!"

"Because you guilted me into it!"

"I didn't mean to.."

"Well, you did. I'm tired of talking about it."

"We can't just not talk about this like it's just going to go away-"

"Yes I can!"

"Now you're acting like a little kid!"

He sighed loudly and I wanted so badly to hug him and tease him about his hair getting too long.

"If you're going, we're going. End of story." He turned and started walking down the fence line again. I looked at Michonne and sighed.

"That's why I wanted to talk. I'm not sure if I want all of us to go."

Then I turned and walked after him, crossing my arms. I heard Michonne follow a second later.

/

PLEASE DONT HATE KYRA TOO MUCH. She's confused as to what the right thing is to do. She's only 18. Not really a big excuse, but she is conflicted right now. She feels betrayed by Beth, but she wants to forgive her at the same time. No matter how much Beth hurt her, she doesn't want Beth to die. She does, however, want the Governor to. She also wants to keep her relationship with Daryl and she's not sure if she'll be able to do that if they're fighting doesn't stop. So, she needs to make a decision: attempt to save the prison and try to kill the Governor and possibly destroy her relationship with Daryl, or stay at the new house, never know if the Governor has died or not, never know if Beth is still alive, and keep her relationship stable. She loves Daryl very, very much. But it's hard for her because she's young and hasn't quite reached full maturity. She knows where her loyalty lies, with Daryl. But, she doesn't want to see people die.

She's going to make a decision soon, which means I'm going to have to make a decision soon... I already had it made, but now I'm conflicted with all the different reviews.. Some people say they should go to the prison to add some more excitement to the story, some say they shouldn't. I just don't know what to do!

Again, please don't hate Kyra too much.


	65. Chapter 65

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE  
We hadn't exactly made up, but we were sleeping in the same bed. That was a good sign, right? Well, we weren't sleeping, we were as far apart as this mattress would allow, and he refused to cover up so we wouldn't accidentally touch. But, other than that, we were fine.

I wanted to talk to him. But, I didn't want it to turn into a screaming fit. I was sick of arguing. I didn't want him mad at me and I didn't want us bickering.

I don't think anyone really knew how in love I was with Daryl. He was everything to me. It's so hard to describe, but it's unconditional. If he walked away from me right now and kept walking, I would continue to love him. He was my one and only reason to wake up in the morning.

And now we weren't talking. Was it all worth it? Something that may not even happen?

No. Hell no.

I once again found myself close to tears, again and again that happens.

Was it too late to apologize? Was he so mad at me that he wouldn't forgive me? I don't think he's ever been quite this mad at me. Ever.

Couples do have fights, though. So, it shouldn't be that big of a deal. But, couples fought over other stuff... Much smaller stuff. If they didn't, they usually got a divorce. So it was a big deal. No question about it.

I had asked way too much of him. I understand that now. It wasn't worth it. Nothing is worth losing him.

I just prayed I hadn't.

"Are you crying?" his voice was low and frankly scared me. I jumped a little, hoping he hadn't noticed.

"No," I instinctively sniffed, proving I was, in fact, crying.

"Why are you crying?"

How do I explain this gaping hole in my stomach? Guilt? Fear? Fear of what? Losing him? Losing my Daryl? The Governor?

"It's hard to explain.." I shrugged, wiping my eyes. We were both on our back. Even as I stared at the ceiling, in my peripheral vision I could see him look at me.

"Try."

So, maybe he wasn't that mad at me. Was he just hurt? Did he feel betrayed by me?

"Are you mad at me?"

"No," he said it too fast.

"Liar."

He huffed/chuckled.

"Ok, I was a little mad. But, I'm not anymore."

"So, why are we doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"You not getting in the covers, laying as far away from each other as possible, not talking..." I trailed off. Saying them out loud didn't sound as good as it did in my head. Did anything though?

"If you don't like being far away, scoot closer, I'm too hot for covers, and we're talking now. Problem solved."

"Fine."

I scooted closer to him, but only a few inches.

"That's one problem solved. As for you being too hot, it's colder than a meat locker out there, and we're only talking because you heard me crying."

"So, you were crying?"

I laughed a bitter laugh and playfully hit him.

"Daryl, I just want to know you're ok. I don't want you to feel like I'm betraying you or anything. I need you to know I love you," I tried to explain. I wasn't sure if he was getting it or not though. He was silent for a second, now looking at the ceiling while I looked at him. Roles reversed.

"I'm ok. I just want to keep you safe."

He was so short. Why could he say long paragraphs when he's mad, yet couldn't talk when it all means something?

"I know," I sighed, and his chin dropped so he could look at me.

"Are you going?"

Great question that I hadn't even answered yet.

"I'm not sure. As of now, no. In the dream, I was pregnant. So, if everything pans out the way it did in the dream..." I didn't finish my sentence.

"You think you're going to get pregnant?"

"I'm not sure. Because, my dad was also there in the dream. And he died two years ago..."

He nodded once, his tongue running over his teeth. I was just glad we were talking without trying to beat each other again.

"It could be. Although, we haven't had sex in so long, I doubt you'd be pregnant from any past times."

"Yeah," I shrugged.

"That was a hint we should change that," he winked, and I laughed and rolled my eyes, playfully hitting him again. He caught my arm though, and all I could do was blush.

"Not tonight," I whispered, shaking my head.

"Not tonight."

He let go of my hand and I once again moved my pillow closer, so it was rightfully beside his. He put his arm around me and I instead used his chest as my pillow.

"We need to quit fighting over this," he whispered above me, playing with my hair.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Me too."

We sat in silence for a little while, and I listened to the rhythm of his heart and his breathing.

I enjoyed it, having him close to me. I didn't like having him at arms distance. And I didn't like our puny fights. I did, however, love him. With everything in me.

And I'm hard to love. I don't understand how he does it every single day. Especially after I said I wanted to go to the prison.

"Do you want kids?" he asked after a second. My eyes were already getting heavy, and when I did open my mouth to speak, my voice was thick with sleepiness.

"Yeah," I said nonchalantly. We've had this talk a million times.

"But not always?"

"No, not always."

"What do you think the last one would have been?"

"Beautiful."

I had nearly forgotten about the hurt my miscarriage brought me. And Daryl. And our relationship.

"You know what I mean," he squeezed me lightly. I didn't say it, but I loved it when his muscles tensed up around me like that. In hugs, sex, or just when his arm was around me.

"I'm not sure. What about you?"

"I think it would have been a girl," he said with sleepy confidence.

"What would you name her?" I drew little circles on his chest with my finger, sad there was a T-shirt separating us.

"Sophia."

My fingers stopped moving and I looked up at him. Was this a hint he was ready to talk about her? Or no?

"Really?"

"Mmhm," he nodded.

"Do you want to..?"

"No," he answered gently, half chuckling. "We made a promise, remember?"

"Yeah," I laid my head back down, once again listening to his heart. It was so normal.

I eventually went to sleep, Daryl followed less than an hour later.

It wasn't an easy sleep. I still was unsure of myself, and how Daryl felt. I wish I wasn't so conflicted...

/

So, how do you guys feel about Kyra having another dream? Her last dream is what would happen if Daryl and Michonne weren't there. So, should she have a dream of what would happen if they were?


End file.
